The Heart of Sky Country
by Noxid Anamchara
Summary: Daryl Dixon found Montana by chance. He ran from home because he couldn't live there any longer. Not with his ol' man, and not with his brother. He was just looking for a fresh start in a place called nowhere, where nobody knew him. He didn't expect to find much. Just a quiet life, a job, and maybe some peace - for once. What he never expected was to find her. AU, no walkers.
1. Not Home

**Nox: **My first AU - YAY! Please be gentle. This is for _zenofbeingmommy_. I love her dearly and she has graciously showered me with this idea and then love and support and _patience_ as I wrote it.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Not Home

He stood for a moment, staring out at the mountains that rose up before him as the sun dropped beyond the horizon. They weren't much different than the ones back home, except for the snow-capped peaks. _That _was fuckin' different. He didn't know how he were gonna get used to the cold up here. But he'd have to if he wanted to make this his last stop.

This place weren't much different than home the more he looked around though. Nothin' more than a small town with its own general store, and its own diner, and its own bank. Hell, one road took him straight through. _Just like home_.

_No, not home no more_.

He turned his back on those mountains, suddenly regrettin' ever comin' to a place that reminded him so much of the one he'd wanted to escape for so fuckin' long.

He scratched the back on his head absently, and then ran his hand over his short hair, staring at the run-down building in front of him.

If there was one thing Daryl Dixon hated, it was a fuckin' bar. He couldn't fuckin' count how many times his big brother Merle had dragged him down to their hole-in-the-wall just so that Merle would a had somebody to drive him and his skank home.

Daryl liked drinkin', just not in any establishments. People never acted like they should in any bar. Course that could a been Merle's fault too. Merle always managed to pick some fuckin' fight with somebody. Daryl never left no bar without a bruise or a swollen eye, or bloodied knuckles.

"You goin' in or ya just gonna stand there all damn night?" He flinched, head swinging to the left where the voice had come from.

He took a step back, then another. How the fuck had he not seen it?

The white Sheriff's car sat quietly next to his truck. He hadn't even seen it when he'd pulled up. Shit, he was really out a it if he hadn't even seen the damn squad car just sittin' there.

He stuffed his hands into his pocket, shoulders slouching further down as he tilted his head to get a good look inside. He'd only seen the back of a Sheriff's car _once_ and he was gonna keep it that way.

"Asked you a question," the deputy demanded from the passenger's side. Daryl felt his lip pull back at the authoritative way he bit out his words. Like this asshole had any right to _demand _anything. He hated the police, as much as he hated his ol' man. They always thought they had the right to do whatever the fuck they wanted just cos they had some fuckin' badge.

But he bit his tongue to stop himself from making a smart-ass remark. First night in his new town and he didn't want to fuck that up.

He didn't want to give this asshole the satisfaction so he just pulled his smokes out a his front pocket, pressed the Marlboro to his lip, and offered the pack up to the cop, as if he wanted to make nice. Merle would a called him pussy, probably would started a fight, and they'd been in the back of car already. But he weren't Merle, and he was done followin' him.

The officer let out a derisive snort. "I look like I do that?" Daryl just shrugged his shoulders and lit his own cigarette, inhaling deep.

Just his fuckin' luck that he didn't even step _into _the bar and he was already makin' the wrong first impression on the deputy.

Not that he cared. He could tell by the deputy's attitude that he would a gotten the same treatment even if he'd a been friendly. And he wouldn't a been. He hated cops, and that weren't gonna change.

And hell if he didn't want to charge straight into that bar right then. It was uncomfortable standing there with the cop staring at him as he smoked, like he was just waiting for him to do something wrong.

"Fuck you Grimes." He looked up in time to see a heavy man stumble out the door, nearly falling to his face. He was righted by another man in uniform following quickly behind him, grabbing him by the elbow.

"That's _Sheriff_ Grimes, Ed," the Sheriff replied as the man shrugged him off. The Sheriff was a man his age, brown hair topped by _the _hat. The one that ya thought all Sheriff's wore and didn't. The one you figured they only wore in movies or some shit. Clearly _this_ one did.

"Yeah well its just gonna be _Rick _when I see ya off duty tomorrow night," Ed whispered threateningly to the Sheriff, _Rick's, _face. Rick stared at him for a moment, his lip curling up in disgust.

"Ed," the other deputy called dangerously as he got out of the squad car. "You better take a step back 'fore I make you." Ed just laughed, not bothering to even look at the deputy. Daryl watched as the deputy walked over to this Ed with his hands resting on his belt, and his jaw cocked. He'd seen that look on plenty of others and to know it was on a _cop_ didn't sit right with him.

"Try it Shane," Ed growled, slurred in his drunken state. The deputy, _Shane_, cocked his head for a moment, a sneer clear across his face. And Daryl didn't think looks could maim but the deputy could come close with that one.

"Lemme tell me you somethin'," he warned, shoving his face into Ed's, anger twisting his features. "I could beat you till there was nothin' left a you but tubes and machines."

"Shane," Rick warned feebly, hand on his gun holster. Rick's face was shadowed in worry, and Daryl didn't like that. Especially cos Shane ignored him. "They'd be feedin' you from a fuckin' bag, and changin' yer shit from a diaper," he snarled, gripping Ed by his collar and hauling him forward.

"So don't you fuckin' tell me to _try it_. Don't fuckin' _tempt me _Ed. Cos I'll do it. I'll make you wish you was never alive." Rick did step forward this time and rest his hand on Shane's arm.

"Alright Shane, that's enough." Shane held onto Ed for a moment longer, watching as Ed swallowed hard. And then he let Ed go with a shove backward, and sauntered off, clicking his tongue.

"Ain't got the balls to do nothin' anyway Ed," Shane called over his shoulder and hopped back into the car. Rick shook his head and steered Ed into the back of the car.

"You can spend the night in one of our _comfortable _beds Ed, till you've sobered up." Ed pushed off Rick's arm, and stumbled into the car bitchin' the whole way. Rick slammed the door behind him and turned to Daryl.

"Sorry ya had to see that," he said, tipping his hat off to him. Daryl snorted, covering up the laugh he almost let slip. He couldn't count how many times he'd seen Merle get hauled away in cuffs. How many times Merle had almost beat men to _death_.

"Not somethin' I ain't seen 'fore," he commented softly, scuffing out his cigarette with his heel. Rick nodded, and went to pull his door open.

"Not seen your face before in town. You plan on staying?" Daryl knew that small towns had close knit people. Came with the territory. He knew he'd be asked a lot a questions before they finally got comfortable with him. He didn't like that, but he knew he'd have to deal with it if he wanted to make a new start somewhere.

But something about this sheriff seemed alright to him. Least, better than the other deputy.

"Haven't decided," he answered, shoving his hands back into his pockets. Rick nodded, and pulled the door open.

"Well if you need anything, name's Rick. Rick Grimes." Daryl nodded, not offering up his own name yet. He still wasn't sure about this place, and he didn't want to go about giving out his name.

Rick waited a moment, waiting for that bit of information. And then he smiled like it was okay that Daryl hadn't given it up. It unnerved him and he filed it away for later that Sheriff Rick Grimes was the one to watch out for.

"Have a good night then," Rick called as he pulled away.

He knew men like the one named Shane. They could be pleasant one minute, and then their fists on you the next. They liked to do the talking with their mouths _and _their hands.

But Rick? That was someone he wasn't sure of. He didn't get the same feeling as he did when he talked to Shane. He didn't feel _threatened_. Couldn't place a time when he hadn't felt threatened by a man. When he hadn't felt like he was tryin' to compete for something.

He sighed, ran his hand through hair, and walked inside the bar.

**XXX**

It was dimly lit inside, and the stool was hard on his ass. But he'd sat at the counter where he could have direct access to the booze and maybe the owner. He was hopin' to maybe get some information from the guy, find out if maybe there was work available.

"Hey stranger." He caught the eyes of the blonde that popped up behind the counter. She leaned toward him, resting her elbows on the counter. Daryl leaned back in response, felt his jaw clench. She was pretty with her shiny blonde waves, and her blue eyes. Her smile stretched across her face and he didn't like the way it made his stomach twist. When was the last time a woman had smiled at him like _that _and had _meant _it? No fuckin' games about it, nothin' behind that fake smile.

"Not seen your face round here before," she continued, either not noticing his discomfort or ignoring it and set a glass down in front of him. She pulled out a bottle of Jack.

Daryl slipped his hand over the top of the glass before she could start to pour. He wouldn't drink Jack or Wild Turkey, for reasons that he'd finally left behind.

Her eyes lifted back up to his, brows goin' up and he swallowed hard.

"Southern Comfort," he murmured huskily, glancing around at the few customers that littered the dimly lit bar. There was another young blonde, who looked just like the one standing before him, talking with a black woman in the back. They didn't seem notice him, and he liked it that way.

He felt a hand slide against his and he jerked back. He turned to find her smiling face again, and this time she must have seen his reaction.

"Not the social one, are you?" She filled his glass with the amber liquid and then dropped her elbows to the counter, chin in her palms. He just grunted and downed the glass in one go. She watched him closely, and then filled his glass again.

"Name's Andrea," she said thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down, stopping to stare at his worn out, sleeveless flannel, the old tank top underneath, and the noticeable amount of filth on his skin. He hadn't washed up before he'd just jumped into the truck and _left_. It was just him, leavin'. Gone. For good.

But he didn't like the way _Andrea _stared at him. It was like she was _interrogating _him with her eyes. Judgin' everything about him. Pissed him off.

"Didn't ask," he muttered, swirling the whiskey, watchin' it slosh against the glass like the waves of the ocean on the shore. Andrea chuckled, and it pissed him off further.

"What brings you to my bar in this little part of the sky country anyway?" Daryl felt his jaw go lax. _Her _bar? Shit, he'd expected the owner to be a guy. Should a known lady luck would a fucked him over like this. Cos lady luck was _never _on his side. Never was, never had been.

And he didn't know what the hell she was talkin' bout - _sky country_ - and that must a shown on his face cos she started laughing again. It set his teeth on edge and he shifted in his seat. Why he came _here_, to this place called _nowhere_ in the middle a _nothing_ was his own damn business.

"Alright, alright," she said absently, biting her bottom lip as she wiped off the counter.

"Andrea." She looked up as a man called her over.

"I'll be right back," she said as she took off with a beer in hand. He watched as she handed the bottle to a guy; his thin shoulders hunched, and his shaggy brown hair stuffed beneath a baseball cap. She laughed at something he said, and touched his shoulder like they were old friends.

Daryl fiddled with the glass on the counter, looked back to the only other two in the bar and froze. The black woman was watching him closely now, something he hadn't noticed before. Her heated gaze held his, and he felt like he was being sized up, judged, noted, and then she broke it off.

He shook his head, attempting to dislodge the feeling she had left behind.

Andrea looked over her shoulder, gesturing toward him with her hands and baseball caps eyes found him.

Just what he needed - small town gossip. If there was somethin' he hated, it was the way people had to spread rumors like they didn't have better shit to do.

Andrea turned to him then, and walked over, swinging her hips as she went back behind the counter. He licked his lips nervously, picked at the skin on his thumbs, suddenly anxious to be gone.

"Tell me…" she waited. Daryl knew she was lookin' for a name. And a name was all it would take. All it would take to start that new beginning he wanted.

That was why he'd come here – lookin' for a new start. He'd left because he'd needed to _run_. Couldn't take it there no longer. Needed a new place to call home. And if he told this _Andrea _his name that was it – the start of it all.

"Daryl," he answered gruffly, sealing his fate. She poured him another shot of whiskey in return.

"Well, Daryl," she said with that smile, "you look like you might be stayin' a while." He downed the whiskey, lookin' up at her through the bottom of the crystal, distorted. He liked her that way – twisted, unreal, _deformed_. He set the glass back down, and studied her for a moment. As much as he wanted to believe that nice smile, and her friendly ways, he just _couldn't_.

Women hadn't been any kinder to him than men. Not to mention he didn't know how in the _hell _to act round them.

"Andrea!" Her head jerked up to the sound of a woman's voice behind him, her laughter following. "Another round for Mich!"

"Don't even think about it," the other one, _Mich, _called back with her thick voice. Andrea's eyes found his again, her blue ones narrowing. He could see that she was waiting for him to answer her, and if he could read her right, she wasn't going to walk away without one.

He pushed the empty glass back toward her.

"And if I am?" Andrea smiled, slapping the counter. She pulled the bottle of Jack back out, pouring a shot into the glass he'd just pushed toward her, and he almost told her he didn't want it. But then, it didn't matter. She tossed back the shot herself.

This woman with her brazen attitude made him _uncomfortable_.

"Then you're in luck!" she beamed brightly. He snorted.

"Dixons don't got no luck," he murmured hoarsely, looking away, chewing on his lip. He could count on his left hand the number of times he'd been lucky. _Or the scars on my back_.

"Who?" When he didn't respond, Andrea just shook her head and continued.

"Well we've got work, if you want it. Not anything pretty, or fulfilling. But it's work all the same." He perked up at that. First fuckin' hour in town and he already had a job offer? This was exactly what he'd wanted. Hell, he'd shovel _shit _if he had to.

"There's a ranch, couple miles out, that's got a need for a ranch-hand. Someone who can handle horses." He felt that small drop of luck trickle through his fingers. He didn't know _shit _about horses, or about a ranch.

"Don't know nothin' bout any ranches or horses. Damn things are…" Andrea watched him, as she tried to stop her smile from spreading.

"Scared of horses?" He scoffed.

"Big. Okay, they fuckin' _big_. Not natural." She just laughed and patted his hand. Daryl swallowed hard as he pulled it away, hoping she didn't sense his discomfort at her touch.

"What'd you do before this then?"

"I…" _hunted for my own food, helped my brother steal, carted him and his hookers round, kept him outta fights. _"Not _that_," he finished instead, leaving her with nothing. She looked surprised.

"You live in Montana and you've never been a ranch-hand before?" He wasn't ready to tell anyone that he'd never been to Montana _ever_, was never even a blip on his radar, or that he'd just drove straight here from the hell that he'd abandoned.

"Not from around these parts." So he'd just keep it simple. Andrea looked skeptical for a moment, but finally dropped it.

"Well as much as I'd love to send you over to the Greene's place, they're not lookin' for work unfortunately. That leaves the Peletiers," she said, her lips turning down like she'd gotten a bad taste in her mouth.

The way she said it made it sound they had the fuckin' plague or somethin'.

"Somethin' wrong with'em?" She was quiet for some time, rapping her fingers on the counter. He thought she was finally going to say something when she stopped tapping her fingers and sighed.

"No," she said with finality. "But I assume you saw that jackass who was hauled out of here by Rick?" He nodded his head, already feelin' the pressure build in his chest.

He should have known it was too fuckin' good to be true. Nothin' ever came without a price.

"That was Ed. Ed Peletier. He owns the ranch. He'd be your boss." The look on her face was enough. She knew this Ed. Knew enough to be wary to send him there. And that meant that Ed was just the person that he _didn't _want to be around. Ed was everything he'd run from.

He'd seen outside the kind a shit that Ed was capable of, seen it in his _eyes_. And he didn't want to be a part a that.

"I know what he looks like, and I know that's not the best place to be sendin' anybody. But he doesn't…" she trailed off, lookin' away for a moment. She looked distant then, as if whatever she had been about to say, she shouldn't.

She smiled, and this time it wasn't the same as before. It didn't reach her eyes_._ "You seem like the type to do your work and leave well enough alone. I don't know what they can offer but you can head on over there tomorrow and see."

He didn't doubt that she was giving him an opportunity to be missed. And this is what he'd been looking for. A place in the middle a nowhere. A place to call home.

So, he'd have to see.

**XXX**

He stood for a moment and stared. Scratched the back of his head, and took a deep breath. And then he turned around and headed back to his truck. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go up to that door, and ask that fuckin' bastard for a job. He just couldn't fuckin' do it.

_Fuck_.

He stopped at the door, hand hovering over the handle. He couldn't do this. It was fuckin' _huge_. There was too much land, too much open space, too much _everything_.

"Look at this fuckin' place," he murmured to himself, and looked over his shoulder. The wind blew across the grassy plain, the sun reflecting off the blades in a swash of color. It was _perfect_. It was _heaven_. You could lie in the grass and soak in the sun for hours and never know that life was a bitch.

The single story house was bigger than anything he'd ever seen, the mahogany wood giving it a rich look.

Had Andrea given him the wrong fuckin' information? Were this some rich people's house? No way that asshole owned something as _beautiful _as this. Weren't no fuckin' right way in hell.

Daryl couldn't do this. Couldn't work for no rich fuckin' folk. He'd never seen more than twenty dollars in his pocket at one time. Never knew what it was like to have nothin' but the clothes on his back and the shoes on his feet. He was lucky to have a roof over his head most days.

Hell, if it weren't for huntin' he'd have somethin' to worry about then.

But this?

The house had to have more than two bedrooms, not including a kitchen and a bathroom. He couldn't remember what a _real _bathroom looked like.

Then there were the stables where he could hear the stomping and the whickering of the beasts inside. A chill went up his spine. He could see the beasts now, towering before him with their big eyes, and their massive bodies attached to those long skinny legs.

He'd never been around horses but he'd seen one once, and that was enough at the time. They were _big. _

But still. He looked out across the land again. At the lush beauty of it, and the _silence _that it held. There was something there. And he couldn't just walk away from it. He'd never walked away from nothin' in his life. No, his brother had been doin' that to him his whole life. He weren't gonna be the one to do that now.

But could he do this? Ask that fuckin' asshole for something? He hated the idea of havin' to beg anybody for _nothin'_ and then to make matters worse this one had to be a douche.

He took a deep breath and walked forward, his chest tightening. He wanted to run. He wanted to run away from all the beauty and the _hope _that taunted him. He wanted to run from the possibility that this could be the worst fuckin' mistake of his life.

But he couldn't. He had to give it a chance.

Was what he always wanted someone to do for him.

So he kept walking with the thought that maybe this would be a new start. That maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

And then he stopped short as a truck came barreling out of the stables, bumping along the dirt road with a large trailer attached to the back.

Daryl watched it drive by, his chest heavy. It blew right by him with Ed Peletier in the driver's seat, red-faced and angry, clutching at the steering wheel tightly. And Ed didn't even notice Daryl standing there next to his truck.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? There went his only chance at a fuckin' job in this town.

He jammed his hands into his pockets and walked up the road, kicking at the dirt. Nothin' to say he couldn't just _look_ at what he wasn't gonna get to do. Weren't like Peletier were around to tell him otherwise.

He went to the house first, because somethin' about it compelled him. He stood there at the bottom of the steps and gazed up at the structure, feelin' more worthless than he'd ever had.

He'd never had _nothin'_ like this before. He'd never even seen nothin' like this back in his part a Georgia. He let out a heavy sigh, and scratched the back of his neck. He shouldn't be here.

The door slammed open with a bang, sending a jolt through him and then something collided with his legs.

He instinctively reached down to grab hold of it and realized to late what it was – a child. Blonde hair, wide green eyes staring up at him with fear. She trembled in his hands and he let her go fast, stumbling back away from her.

"Go Sophia," someone called. And the girl, _Sophia_, ran. She ran like she had the devil chasing her. He'd never seen anything so painful, so _familiar_ as he watched her retreating back.

And when he turned around to the open front door he felt the breath leave him.

A woman was on the floor, lip bleeding, and a bruise already forming above her eye. She wore her graying hair cropped short to her head, and her clothes hung loose about her frame. It was enough to let him see another bruise forming on her shoulder.

How many times had he witnessed, been _subjected_ to what he was sure had just happened? How many times had he been unable to stop it? How many times had he felt so fuckin' powerless against the world?

He swallowed hard against the emotions that threatened to consume him.

She rubbed at her jaw tentatively, wincing as she did. And then she looked up at him and smiled.

* * *

**A/N**: I can't say that all of the chapters will be this long. But I can say that all characters will be making their appearances! Let me know what you think! What you like, what you think will happen!

I adore you all!


	2. Illusion

**Nox: **Firstly I love you guys, I love you guys I LOVE YOU. You all are amazing. To my guest reviewers - thank you so much for leaving one. I wish I could respond to you. Second, there will be a lot of me winging stuff especially when it comes to the horses, and ranch life. Or I will be using the WEB as my personal assistant. I must give a wonderful, heartfelt _thank you _to _BulletTimeScully_ for her input on horses. I have a feeling I am going to be using you to the fullest my dear. And also to _Brazen Hussy _for her knowledge on biblical verses.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

**Warning: **Graphic Domestic Abuse

* * *

Illusion

This was her favorite part of the day. When the sun was just peaking over the snow-capped mountains, and splashed across the field lighting it up like magic. Nothing else moved except for the wind on her face, and the horses at her back.

She was alone finally, in these brief moments. No one to bother her, no one to yell at her, to tell her what to do, and to _hurt _her. Just a world of silence.

Just _her._

She held her coffee tight in her hands, letting the warmth seep into her skin. She inhaled the rich smell and closed her eyes, her elbows resting against the post.

Today, Ed was leaving. Leaving for Malta and she'd have a _peaceful _few days to herself. She rolled her head back, stretching her neck. Only to feel a cold nose brush against her arm, and snort air across her skin.

She smiled and turned, leaving her cup on the post.

"Hey there Sky," she murmured to the face before her. Sky nickered, burying his face in her chest.

Carol Peletier felt her chest expand and her heart inflate. If there was one thing she had ever learned in her miserable life, it was that animals never judged, never questioned you, and they never _hurt _you.

She rubbed her hands along the side of his face, burying her fingers in his mane that draped down his neck. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes, and sighed.

"One day Sky," she whispered, rubbing his neck methodically, as he chewed her shirt. One day Ed wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore. One day Ed wouldn't look at Sophia _like that_. One day she would tell him _exactly _how she felt. One day he would get what he _deserved_.

She pulled away, and Sky stamped his foot, tossing his head back. She laughed at his antics. He was a lover and she adored him for it. But Ed never cared one bit about him. He was too restless, and full of life, and he never took to the whip like Ed had hoped he would. She hated the whip. Hated everything it stood for. Hated that Sky and the others had felt its sting. Hated that it wasn't _just_ used for the horses. If she could have her way, it would be burned. Sky never listened to anything but Carol anyway. Ed hated it, and she loved it. She _loved_ Sky.

"You want to get out?" She said softly as she unlatched the door and slid it wide open. Sky threw his head back, and whinnied and Carol couldn't help but laugh. His excitement was infectious.

She put her hands up, calming him down before he hurt himself in the stall. "Whoa boy," she cooed, loving every way that his muscles rippled underneath his black coat. She inched forward, pulling the lead rope from the hook, and placed her left hand on his shoulder and her right over his neck and stroked him softly.

"Shhh, Sky," she whispered as she loped the rope around his neck and held it loosely. He'd never been one for a halter, or anything that restrained him. And she'd never been one to make him do anything he didn't want to. She walked him out of the stall and through the stable. He danced and tossed his head the whole way there, and she couldn't blame him. He was a child who only wanted to be free.

"Soon Sky, we'll get there soon," she laughed, as he bumped her shoulder with his. And when she reached the gate to the field she pulled it open and he took a moment to pause. She looked up at him, as she slipped the lead rope from around his neck and watched as he stared out into the expanse of green that was the only home he had ever known. The wind kicked up and blew across them both, his long black hair brushing her skin and sending a chill down her spine.

He was such an intelligent animal and she would be forever indebted to the days she had spent with him; crying into his shoulder, sitting by his side in the sun, riding him through the mountain trails. He had always known when she had needed him. Had always been there for her.

And then he took one glance down at her, nosed her cheek and took off, racing through the field. His mane trailed behind him, and his black coat reflected the light of the morning sun. He was beautiful, and he was graceful and he was so strong. He tossed his head, and whinnied, stopping to dance and kick his legs back.

And she couldn't help but laugh, tossing her own head back. He was his name; Sky Dancer. He danced across the fields as if he was flying and he had nothing to hold him back - as if he were _free_.

Carol closed the gate to the field, feeling her chest tighten slowly. But he wasn't free. It was only an illusion. An illusion they both lived through every day. One that kept them held tight in its grasp and never let go. They were trapped in this cage and she wasn't sure if it would ever break.

She rested her elbows along the gate, gripped her forearms tight and watched Sky dance, watched him fly.

"One day we'll be free," she whispered. But she wasn't sure she believed herself.

**XXX**

She propped the stool up next to Netty and sat down with a sigh. Netty groaned, chewing the bucket of ground corn and soybean she'd left for her. Carol chuckled as she patted her hefty side.

"Sorry girl," she murmured, and set about milking her. This wasn't supposed to be her task this morning, but she couldn't find Henry. And Netty needed to be milked. She set about the methodical task with ease, resting her elbows on her knees.

She'd have to wake Sophia and Ed soon, get breakfast ready for them both. There was a shipment of feed to be delivered to Hershel's today and he would have to go by and pick it up.

Of course, today he'd find some reason to avoid going over there. Or he'd make her do it. Ed hated the Greene's. Hated that Hershel was the only vet they could call on. Hated that Hershel bred thoroughbred's for racing and all they did was raise cattle. She sighed and rolled her shoulders, feeling the ache of the bruise begin to radiate down her back. She sat back, and breathed.

She liked Hershel. He was a good man, and he had a good family. He'd been raised into the racing business, and from what she had heard – it wasn't always successful. There were times when they had almost run themselves into the ground.

Ed thought they were missing out on something grand, which was why he bought Outlaw. But Ed was a fool.

She sighed again, and stretched.

She felt her body ache then, as she let herself just be for a moment. Ed had _wanted _her last night. She couldn't imagine what for, since he didn't seem to find her appealing in any way. But he'd told her to take off her clothes and then to get in bed.

And so she did as he asked. Because that's what a good wife did. Because if she didn't, he'd hit her again. Because if she didn't, Sophia would suffer.

Only one of them had to suffer because of Ed. Only one of them had to suffer at Ed's hands and she wasn't going to let it be Sophia – not _ever_. But it didn't matter how compliant she was. Didn't matter if she gave him whatever he asked for. He was never satisfied and he always had a reason to hurt her.

She looked up at the sound of feet coming her way and smiled as Lincoln rounded the corner of the stall. Netty bellowed her disagreement and Carol chuckled.

"Hush Nettles," she murmured, as she reached over to rub Lincoln behind his ears. He panted heavily, his tongue lolling out the side as he dropped his butt to the ground next to her.

She turned on the stool to give Lincoln her attention, and he scooted his butt closer to her. "Oh Lincoln," she murmured, rubbing along his back, watching the folds of his skin shift and move with her, as his head rested along her arm.

Carol loved the hound like he was her own. But he wasn't. He was just a stray, and she hadn't the heart to make him go. Every day he came waddling into the stable, from lord knows where seeking attention and food.

She'd managed to keep it from Ed all this time, but she was beginning to worry that he was going to find out one of these days. And she feared what Ed would do to her, to _him _if he did.

Lincoln reached up and licked the whole side of her face.

"Alright, alright," she said laughing, and stood up, grabbing the pale of milk before walking away. He'd gladly lap that up if he was given the chance.

"I'll get you something to eat," she said over her shoulder as he trailed behind her, listening intently, eyes on her. "But you go on to Bluebird's stall and wait for me there. She'll keep you company _and _out of trouble." She stopped in the middle of the barn and watched him continue on without her.

He was a hefty hound, and she didn't know who would ever let him go. He was the most loveable thing and he adored Sophia. But she couldn't keep him, not with Ed. He would never allow it.

She sighed and walked out of the barn, running her hand along the stalls to greet each of the faces that poked out to sigh, or nicker at her.

She stopped at the opening of the stable and watched as Sky stood in the middle of the field, grazing. She turned her gaze to the head of cattle grazing beyond that, and knew that she would get through today. She smiled.

"Carol." She turned to see Dale jog up to her, his face red. She didn't like the look he had, or the way he hurried towards her. He _never _hurried. Dale was the best foreman she could have asked for, but he liked to do things on his own time.

"What's wrong Dale? Did Outlaw get loose again?" Outlaw was _always _getting loose. He should never have been confined to begin with but that wasn't her call to make. Ed was the one who'd bought him, and then made the calls on what to do with him.

Ed liked to control what happened on his ranch, even _if _he didn't know what the –

She took a deep breath, and twisted the ring on her finger.

Dale shook his head, wringing his hands. "No, it's not about Outlaw, though he is throwing a fit." She nodded her head, thinking she'd give him some time in the field today to just _breathe_.

"It's Henry," Dale continued, eyes widening. "I can't find him _anywhere_. Not him, or his truck for that matter." Carol bit her lip, and clutched the pale tighter in her hand. This was what she had been afraid of.

"I'll go check the cabin then, before I inform Ed," she said tight-lipped and walked away.

"Carol," Dale called from behind her, and she stopped, looking over her shoulder.

"I thought I saw him moving some things to his truck yesterday. I didn't think anything of it. I'm sorry," he said regretfully. She knew he was, and there was nothing to be done about it. Dale was a good man, with a good heart. She would never blame him for this.

"It's alright Dale. He was a good kid. How were we to know?" Dale nodded, and walked off, shaking his head.

She took a deep breath and walked to the cabin that Henry had been staying in.

She knew what she would find though. Henry would be gone. No trace of why, no explanation – nothing. He just left. Carol was afraid this was going to happen.

The thing was, Ed didn't just treat her bad – he treated _everyone _bad. She was lucky enough that Dale was older than Ed and knew how to steer clear of him. Knew when to keep things to himself, and knew just how to please Ed. Dale was the best foreman she could have asked for.

But Henry was young, and he made mistakes. Mistakes that Ed reamed him out for. Mistakes that Ed could have taught him from, but just made Henry feel bad about himself for.

She took the steps up the cabin, more just a one room building, and opened the door.

She stood for a moment, and felt empty inside. The little house that had a single bed, a small card table, and a sink with a toilet next to it, had been built with the intent that whoever lived here would be familiar with _them_. And it was _empty_. Henry and all of his personal belongings were _gone_.

The cabin wasn't much, because whoever lived there shouldn't have needed more than a place to sleep and use the bathroom. She provided the cooking, and they could come into the house and use what they needed. They lived here because they worked on the ranch. They never charged anyone to live here, and in return, they were paid a quarter the wage. Henry had said it was perfect. Just enough for a single guy like him who was only looking for work and a place to stay.

Of course all of that became more difficult once anyone realized what her relationship was with Ed.

And Henry must have realized that _he _didn't want to stay either.

How could she _blame _him? How could she ask anyone to stay when she didn't want to herself?

She stepped back out the door, and let it slam closed behind her. She gripped the pale tight and made her way to the house.

She was going to have to tell Ed that Henry was gone. She was going to have to tell him.

**XXX**

She'd started breakfast first, figured that getting some food in him would best. Ed was never any better hungry.

And so it was the smell of bacon and eggs that woke Sophia first. She came stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing at her eyes, clutching her doll to her chest.

"Mom," she murmured groggily, sitting down at the table. Carol poured a glass of orange juice and set it down in front of her.

She reached over and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah baby," she said, going back to grab the eggs and spoon some onto the plate in front of Sophia.

"Can I stay home today?" Carol looked up, brows furrowed. Sophia rarely ever asked to stay home. Mainly because Ed never let her, and secondly because she didn't like to be around him when he was upset. He was always upset when he was working.

"What's wrong honey?" She asked, sweeping her hand across Sophia's forehead, checking for a fever. She found none and sat in the chair next to her.

Sophia fiddled with the doll, and ducked her head. "I just…I just want to stay home with you today," she murmured. She looked up at Carol, eyes wide and pleading. "Can't I please stay home? I'll take care of Bluebird today," she begged.

Carol reached out and caressed her head softly, pushing her hair back. She leaned forward and kissed her head once more and rose to her feet.

As much as she wanted to let Sophia stay at home, she just couldn't. Ed would never let it happen. "You have to go to school sweetie," she said softly, putting a few pieces of bacon on her plate. "You know that," she said. And Sophia looked down at her plate, knowing full well why she had too.

Carol knew that Sophia would never ask unless there was a reason. And now she was concerned. Something must have happened at school for her to ask. Because as much as Sophia loved to stay at home and ride her horse Bluebird, she also loved school.

"Eat your breakfast," she murmured, and began piling up a plate at the sound of Ed's feet coming down the hall.

She gripped the edge of the sink, and prayed. Prayed for the strength to withstand whatever Ed would send her way. Prayed for the strength to _survive _just one more day.

_The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold._

She took a deep breath, and lifted her head. She looked over her shoulder, and gazed at the blonde head seated quietly at the table.

She would survive for Sophia.

Ed came stomping into the kitchen then and sat himself at the head of table, and immediately started eating. Not a word of greeting. Carol turned and placed a glass of orange in front of him.

He snatched it up and took a large swallow.

She waited a moment, gathered her courage for what was sure to come. They couldn't afford to keep many ranch hands, and Henry had been one of the good ones. Now, she wasn't sure what they would do. They were tight as it was.

"Ed," she started and he didn't even stop eating. He continued to shovel the food down until he was completely finished. And then he drank the rest of his orange juice, belching when he was done.

He looked up at Sophia, still ignoring her, and gestured to her plate of food. "You gonna eat girl?" Sophia shook her head no.

"Damn waste of food. Get yer ass ready for school then," he barked as he began to finish Sophia's breakfast as well. Carol stepped forward, touching Sophia's shoulder gently as she hurried from the kitchen.

"Ed there's something I need to tell you," she said louder this time. He just grunted, and she knew that now she had his attention.

"Did ya get the horses taken care a this morning?" She bristled. There were plenty of things she could have done this morning if only Henry had been around. There were plenty of things she could have done if she had had _help_ from him as well.

"No," she said meekly, because she knew what her response would do to him. He stopped eating, and set his fork on the table. And then he looked up at her.

"The hell you mean _no_?" She swallowed hard, and stood still. Even when he stood up and stalked toward her, she stayed absolutely still.

"I couldn't get to all of the horses," she replied, her hands beginning to shake. His eyes had darkened, and his hands had fisted at his sides.

"Why?" She took a step back, involuntarily. And he followed. Her back was pressed to the kitchen counter behind her and she couldn't stop her heart from beating frantically in her chest. Her hands were sweating and she was _afraid_. She was _always_ afraid.

"Henry's gone," she whispered. His hands slammed on the counter on either side of her and she flinched, closing her eyes. She felt his breath at her ear, and a tremble went down her spine.

"Fuckin' speak up woman," he growled into her ear. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she fought them back with everything she had. If there was one thing she didn't want to do, it was cry. Not in front of him.

"Henry's gone," she said louder, leaning as far from him as she could. She waited, the silence eating at her. And then she flinched as his hand gripped her arm, _tight_.

"Why's he gone?" He barked, pulling her against him. Carol felt the bile rise in the back of her throat at the feel of her body pressed against his, but she bit her tongue to hold it back.

"I don't know," she stammered out, trying not to fight back. If she fought back, he'd only hurt her worse. "He was just gone this morning. No note, no warning." Ed's eyes flashed, and she closed her eyes. Because she knew what was coming.

Her head jerked back as his hand connected with her jaw. She gasped out as the pain went shooting across her face, and she instinctively clutched at her aching jaw.

"Next time somebody leaves this fuckin' farm, you better know." And then he walked off, picking his jacket up off the chair by the door. "And get them fuckin' horses done 'fore I get back!" He screamed as the door slammed shut behind him.

She stood for a moment, letting the reality of what just happened sink in. And then she started to shake as she slid to the floor, and the tears fell down her cheeks.

"Mom?" She froze, and let her hand drop from her face. She looked up to see Sophia standing in the doorway. "Are you – " She laughed, choking back the tears, and stood up quickly.

"Of course sweetheart," she said, quickly pulling Sophia's lunch out of the fridge, grabbing an apple so she could eat it on the way to school.

"But your face is swollen…" Carol swallowed hard, and kept the smile plastered on. "Just slipped sweetie, knocked it on the counter." Sophia kept staring at her, and Carol knew that it was getting harder and harder to convince Sophia that all of her bruises were accidentally self-inflicted. Her daughter wasn't stupid. But Carol could never admit the truth to her.

Because admitting the truth meant admitting that she could never escape this hell.

"Come on baby," she murmured, shuffling her out the door. "Let's see if we can't call Lori to give you a ride today."

**XXX**

She lay down in bed, and felt exhausted. Her body sagged into the mattress and she didn't even have the energy to pull the sheets up around her.

She'd managed to muck all the stalls, and switch out all the old hay with fresh stuff. She'd brushed down every horse, and given them each attention. She'd even managed to give Outlaw the much needed attention he'd deserved. The horse was beginning to grow on her – in the way that wounded animals do. He was a good horse. Strong and hard-headed. But he'd been mistreated and she could see that. He needed stability in his life, and a soft hand. Someone who would talk to him with kind words, and make him feel loved. He needed to know that there was still love in this world. And she didn't know if she could give that to him if Ed was the one who would be training him.

She rolled onto her side, pulling the pillow into her arms. The stable roof had needed fixing so Dale had tended to that most of the day and then herded the cattle closer to the shelter. There was a decent chance of rain tomorrow and she didn't want them to be too far from it.

He'd also picked Sophia up from the school today, because for some reason Ed hadn't come home.

And then a group of tourists had come in and she and Dale had given them the trail ride.

Now, she was alone, in bed. And as much as she didn't want Ed beside her, she worried. Where was he tonight? Where had he been all day? And to top it off, the shipment of feed still hadn't been picked up. She knew, because Hershel had called her today. She didn't have time to go out and get it herself. Hershel, being the wonderful man that he was, had told her they would hold onto it until tomorrow.

She closed her eyes, and curled inward. She didn't want to keep doing things like this. She just wanted someone who gave back to her what she gave in return. How was it that she had been given this life? What had she done to deserve this?

She flinched at the sound of the phone ringing and rose from the bed to answer to it.

"Hello?"

"Carol?" She sighed, knowing now what had happened to Ed.

"Hello Rick," she breathed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Unfortunate news," he said, sounding far from unhappy about it, "Ed's staying here tonight." Her stomach twisted, knowing full well that this was never the best course of action.

"What's he done Rick?" Rick sighed. The worst part about being friends with Lori was her husband, Rick. The _Sheriff._ And he knew _exactly _how Ed treated her. But if Carol never reported it then he couldn't do anything about it.

"Assaulted an officer, public intoxication," he ticked off, "_pretentious asshole_," she heard from the background. She knew Shane's voice from anywhere. And as much as she wanted to agree with him, she hated the way he handled things.

"Rick, are you sure he can't just come home?" Rick sighed, rustled with something in the background.

"Carol, you and I both know what he's like when he's drunk. Best he stays here for the night." But you don't know what he's like when he comes home _afterwards_, she thought. You don't know what I'll have to go through.

"Rick – " she attempted one more time and he cut her off before she could finish.

"Sleep tonight Carol," he murmured softly. And she could hear the concern in his voice, the _care_. Rick was a good man, she couldn't doubt that. But sometimes he didn't fully grasp what her situation was. Sometimes, she just didn't have the heart to tell him.

"Alright Rick," she said softly, knowing exactly what would come tomorrow.

"G'night Carol," he said and the line went dead.

She went to bed, but she couldn't sleep. She lay awake and stared at the ceiling, dreading what tomorrow would bring.

**XXX**

She rolled out of bed, feet heavy, chest heavy, _heart _heavy. She wasn't ready to face this day. Wasn't ready for _anything_.

But she had to get up. There were hungry mouths to feed, and stalls to clean out, and bodies to brush, and faces to greet. So many animals relied on her and she couldn't abandon them. She _wouldn't_.

She slipped her clothes on and went down the hall, her morning already starting off later than normal. She should have had Netty milked by now, but she just wasn't in it today.

She wasn't _prepared_.

Not at all.

She stopped dead in the hallway and watched Ed's still form, waiting at the kitchen table. Carol knew by the look on his face that he was sober, that he was pissed, and that she was going to _pay_.

"Where's my breakfast?" She swallowed hard. How long had he been here, waiting for her? How long had he been home, waiting, _watching_? She couldn't _breathe_.

"Ed," she stammered out, but didn't get any further.

He jumped up from the table, sending the chair crashing to the floor. She jumped back a step, clutching at the buffet at her side sending pictures scattering to the floor in her haste.

She wasn't prepared _at all_.

Not for the way he stormed toward her with a fury in his eyes that sent her heart crashing into her chest. Not for the way he grabbed her shoulder so tight that she whimpered. Not for the way that he pushed her to the ground where she fell backwards into the buffet, knocking her head. For a moment, she couldn't see straight as her head spun.

"Fuckin' Rick Grimes thinks he's somethin'," he muttered above her. She didn't meet his eyes, just curled her body inward. There was nothing to do but ride this out. Nothing to do but wait for it all to end.

"You think I like bein' the town fuckin' joke?" he screamed, and his hand came streaking toward her. Her head slammed back against the wood behind her as his hand connected with her jaw again, and she gasped in pain. Her jaw still ached from yesterday, still hadn't been given enough time to heal.

"Yer my fuckin' problem," he growled, bending low so that they were face to face, and she couldn't look at him. Couldn't face the hatred in his eyes.

Every day something was her fault. One way or another she was the problem. When would it ever be _his _fault? When would he see that _he _was the problem?

He grabbed her by the jaw and squeezed hard. "And now, I gotta take care of the problem," he whispered. There was something in the way he said it, that scared her. But she wouldn't know what he was up to.

She flinched as he stepped away from her and flew out the door.

She was breathing hard, clutching at the carpet beneath her, feeling the ache radiate _everywhere_.

"Momma?" Carol's head snapped up and there was Sophia, standing in the middle of the hallway, doll hanging uselessly at her side. She was dressed and ready for school, but the look on her face told Carol that she had seen _everything_.

"Sweetie," she whispered and Sophia stepped into the light.

"Mom, I…" the doll slipped from her fingers, and she took another step forward. And then she flung herself into Carol's arms. She hugged Sophia tightly to her chest, feeling the tears stream down her face. She rubbed Sophia's back soothingly.

"Are you okay Mom?" she asked softly. If there was one thing she wasn't, it was okay. But she would never let Sophia know that.

"Can you go to school today?" She felt Sophia nod her head against her shoulder, and she clutched her daughter tighter to her. Sophia was the bravest daughter she could ever have.

"Then I need you to get Dale to call Lori, okay?" Sophia nodded again, and pulled away. Carol pushed back her hair, her hand shaking. She bit her lip to stop the tears. She couldn't call Lori, and she couldn't ask Dale to do that for her. She couldn't face either of them looking like this. They would look at her and _know_. And she just didn't have the heart to face them.

"Go on baby," she murmured. And Sophia took off, quick. Carol took in a breath, and cradled her aching jaw. But when she looked up she saw a man standing outside, in front of Sophia.

She felt her chest constrict and fear gripped her. For a moment, she thought it was Ed. But then she saw that it wasn't. His hair was too dark, and his face was younger. He didn't _carry _himself like Ed either.

"Go Sophia," she called, urging her forward. Whoever this stranger was, she didn't need him around her daughter. Not when she didn't know who he was or what he was capable of.

The stranger watched Sophia run, his shoulders curled inward, his face a mix of emotions that she, surprisingly, recognized. Anxiety and fear.

She looked down at herself, looking at the state she was in. This is just what she needed. A stranger to know exactly what her life was like. She felt her lip tremble and bit on it hard. She couldn't let him know how badly she hurt. She _couldn't._

She rubbed at her jaw one last time, and winced, feeling the ache lance out. She would would put on the same face that she gave everyone.

And then she looked up at him and smiled.

* * *

**A/N**: So I hope I didn't scare anyone with the abuse. I'm not afraid to write dark things in my fics, so some of that may come forward. I will _always _put trigger warnings beforehand though. Tell me what you think, and please don't be afraid to stick around! Caryl will come soon I promise!

I adore you all for coming back!


	3. Lost

**Noxi**: You guys just continue to floor me. Thank you so much for sticking through the abuse. I know it might have been difficult, but I've never been afraid to shine light on the cruel reality of any situation. Plus, it's my thing. So I'm in love with you all now.** Bless your sweet honey hearts! **

And thank you to _BulletTimeScully, _again, for an insight of how horses smell. Interesting, haha.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Lost

He sat against the wall; hands stuffed into his pockets to try and shake the feel of her soft, calloused one in his. His legs twitched with the urge to run, and if he hadn't been outside he would have felt like he was suffocating.

But he wasn't. And he still felt like he couldn't breathe right.

"How long has she been out there?" He flinched, taking several steps back as the man, _Dale_, stepped out from the stables rubbing his hands off on a towel. Dale didn't seem to notice his reaction, so he just tucked his head down further, and shrugged his shoulders.

Dale sighed, shaking his head.

"I always knew Ed was capable of some bad things but this?" Dale looked at him, and Daryl averted his gaze quickly, finding the woman's back, _Carol_, again. She was sitting in the middle of the field, head turned to the sky.

Daryl didn't know what she was thinking out there, but he was unsure of what he was supposed to do now. He'd never experienced someone reacting the way she had. It was like something precious, and irreplaceable had been taken away and no one could make her feel better. It was like she was _lost_.

If he was bein' honest, he was fuckin' scared of it all. She'd been cryin' and clutching at Dale like she needed to be held up physically. She was frantic. He'd never seen _nobody_ react that way. He didn't think she had it in her. Especially not after this morning.

"_I'm Carol," she said softly, extending her hand out to him, still smiling. Her lip still bled, and the bruises along her body were the only thing he could focus on. But then he looked into her eyes, and he _knew_. He knew he was lost. _

Dale sighed next to him. "Think you can watch her?" he asked, pulling Daryl out of the memory.

Daryl looked at Dale like he was fucking crazy. Watch her? What was he supposed to do if she started doin' all that shit again? What if she needed a – a fuckin' hug or somethin'? He didn't do _touchin'._

"I've gotta run to Hershel's to pick up the feed, see Martinez and Tyreese about fixing the roof," he grumbled. He could fix a fuckin' roof with his hands tied behind his back and his eyes blindfolded. He knew out to fix shit, but he weren't gonna offer up that bit of information once he knew what he was in for.

"And then Sophia needs to be picked up from school later," he said absently, watching Carol with that sad, pitying look on his face. He _hated _that look. Hated everything it stood for. People never understood that it was the worst fuckin' thing you could do for'em. Course, he didn't know if this Carol lady was same way. Maybe she _liked_ that kinda shit. Maybe she wanted people to feel sorry for her.

But somethin' told him that she didn't. Else why would she have smiled that stupid fuckin' smile on her face while she was lyin' on the floor, face beat up from her own damn husband?

"If you want, you can take your things into the cabin and get yourself settled. Just…keep an eye on her?" He swallowed hard, and looked out at her.

She'd been sitting there for two hours now, and nothing that Dale had done could bring her away. She just sat, knees curled to her chest, crying silently.

"Daryl, right?" He turned to Dale, not liking the way his name came out of the man's mouth. It was like he was already settlin' into this place when he wasn't even sure he wanted to _stay_.

"I don't know anything about you son," he started and Daryl felt his jaw snap shut, and he fists clench at his sides.

"Ain't yer fuckin' son," he growled out. Dale didn't react to him, but for the grimace of his face. And for a moment he thought Dale was gonna walk away. He hated it when people, _men_, did that. What the hell did that mean anyway? Callin' him son like that, like he was fuckin' _theirs_. He weren't nobody's son and he sure as hell weren't gonna start. He'd never been a son, and he'd never been a _good _son at that and he never knew what no son was like.

Dale put his hands up, somethin' he'd seen plenty of people do when he got pissed. _He'd_ done it to calm a wild animal caught in a trap before. Suddenly, he didn't like the way it felt from the other side.

"I was just goin' to say that even though I don't know much about you, I think I can trust Carol to ya," he finished with a sigh. Daryl curled inward, not liking the feel of _anybody _needin' him. He didn't want that to start now.

He couldn't take care a nobody. Never been able to before. He'd been fuckin' up his whole life, and to put somebody's life into _his _hands, especially a _woman's _was like asking for hell to break loose.

"Can't take care a nobody," he muttered, shifting away from Dale. And it were true. He shifted his arms, adjusting his shirt, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the tattoo, the _reminder,_ on his chest. He'd never been able to take care a _nothing_.

He squeezed his hand tight, nails digging into his palms as he tried to erase the feeling she had left behind.

He knew Dale were watchin' him, could feel his stare hot on his face. But Dale just sighed again and, gratefully, started walking away. But not before leaving a few words behind.

"Don't mean ya can't start now." He watched Dale walk away, his stomach twisting and his throat dry, hand tingling in his pocket.

**XXX**

The cabin wasn't much, but he didn't mind. Honestly, he'd never had nothing to call his before. And this really wasn't_ his _if he thought about it, but there weren't nobody around to tell him otherwise either. It was his own fuckin' space and he'd take it.

He dropped his sack of belongings on the small twin bed and propped his crossbow along the wall. He wasn't sure how his new _landlords_ were going to take to it, but he weren't giving it up. Was the only thing he'd ever had that kept him safe, and his belly full and nobody was takin' that away from him.

He couldn't believe he had a fuckin' _toilet _in here neither. He walked over to the thing, admirin' it like it was some goddamn golden prize. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen one that weren't covered in grime, or had the seat fallin' off. Couldn't remember the last time he felt like it would be _okay _if he used it.

He shook his head. He _hated _that he were a piece a fuckin' trash. Didn't have nothin' like this. No toilet's in the house, nice sheets on the bed, and a clean floor. Hell, this was the nicest lookin' place he'd seen in a long time.

He hated what that said about him.

Daryl stormed out of the cabin before it made him any angrier, door slammin' shut behind him. He stared out at the farm around him, takin' in the natural beauty of it, and _hated _it. Hated that he _wanted _it. He clenched his jaw, and started walking away.

And as much as he didn't want to go back out there, he couldn't help but find his feet draggin' him back to that damn fence. He skirted around the stable, the sound of the horses sending a chill down his back. He'd avoid the beasts for as long as he could.

He didn't know what he was doin' out here, watching her. Weren't like it were gonna do any good. She didn't want nobody, didn't want no comfort. But he couldn't get her outta his mind. He stopped at the gate, resting his arms along the post. Watchin' her out there, small against the wide blue sky and the mountains suddenly made her seem so much more fragile, and weak. He looked down at his hand, making a fist. Could stop thinkin' about her hand in his, the way her fingers had slid across his palm.

Softest touch he'd ever felt.

He didn't know what to do about that. Just like he didn't know what to do earlier either.

_He wasn't sure what to do. The smile on her face was forced and he knew she had to be hurtin'. Could see it in her eyes. He'd felt that same kind a pain for _years_. Knew it like the back a his hand. Knew it as intimately as warm bodies twisted together and breath mingling with the other. Course, he didn't know shit about that either. Just seen it too many times to count or know if sex was something people ever did because they _cared _anymore. _

_She stood up, legs shaking, and brushed herself off. He cleared his throat nervously and took a step back. He didn't want to be a part a this. Andrea never mentioned no wife, and certainly not no fuckin' kid. _

_Maybe he should a figured that shit out on his own, but hell. He'd seen Peletier and there weren't no way on this fuckin' earth that he figured anyone would want to be _married_ to that ass. _

_She looked up to meet his eyes again, and he froze. She watched him a moment, and this time the pain was gone. He didn't know where she'd pushed it, or how she'd done it so fast. But her lips relaxed, and her eyes softened around the corners. And he felt something shift inside of him. _

"_I'm Carol," she said softly, extending her hand out to him, that smile soft and inviting. Her lip still bled, and the bruises along her body made his own scars tingle. But he couldn't stop looking into her eyes. How many women had looked at him like that – like they weren't judging him? Like he weren't some redneck piece a trash? Like he weren't worth _nothing_? Before he could stop himself he was falling into the tenderness of those eyes. He'd never felt so _accepted_, like it was all gonna be okay. As if this was _exactly _where he was supposed to be. He was lost in those eyes.  
_

_And before he knew it he was reaching out to tentatively grasp her hand with his, the softness enveloping his rough, hard one. He winced, almost pulling back because he didn't want her to feel the scars on his hand, to know that roughness of it. But she just gripped his hand firmly, and gave it a slight squeeze. _

_Her smile broadened and he was spinning out of control. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his palms started sweating and he needed to get the hell out of there. He couldn't _do _this. _

_But then she pulled her hand away, thankfully, and he was swallowing hard, licking at his lips to wet them. His mouth had gone dry. Why the _fuck _was this happening to him? What the hell was he doing getting all _weird _around this lady? _

_He didn't know why his heart was jumping out of his chest, or why his palms were sweating or why he suddenly had to get the hell out of there. But he really wanted to get the hell out of there. _

"_Something I can help you with?" she asked gently, head tipping to the side a little. He took a step backward, needing more space than he realized he had. She was bein' too nice to some guy she just met, some guy she didn't even have a name for. Hell, he could a been some fuckin' serial killer or somethin'. _

"_I…" still not enough space, so he took two more steps back until he was at the edge of the stairs. Her eyes narrowed in confusion and she took a step forward, unsure._

"_I'm, uh, new round here," he muttered out like some goddamn idiot who didn't know how to produce two fuckin' words. Course she would know that. Everybody knew who was who in a small town. _

Fuck.

_He went down the stairs then, scratching at his head, feeling everything come rushing at him. This was the wrong place. He couldn't do this here. This wasn't _home_. This was everything _but _home. _

_She smiled and followed him slowly out the door, stopping at the top of the steps, wrapping her arms around her waist. _

"_What's your name?" she asked softly, hesitantly. He looked into those eyes one more time. _

_And there was something about'em that he couldn't quite place. Something about them had the word tumbling out of his mouth before he could wonder, before he could even think to stop it. _

"_Daryl," he murmured, his name rolling off his tongue like he didn't have no control over it. He cursed himself for being so damn careless with it. He scuffed his foot on the ground, head lowered and turned away from her.  
_

"_Daryl," she repeated, staying where she was at the top of the steps. Something tugged in his chest, and he liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. Didn't like that he liked it, but he did all the same. He took a glance up, and saw that she wasn't even looking at him now. She was staring at the farm, letting the silence fall between them. _

_She sighed heavily, and gripped her arms tight, wincing when she pulled on the bruise. _

"_You wouldn't happen to need work, would you?" She asked with a small chuckle, her voice catching at the end. Daryl could see her eyes filling up with tears, but they never went any further. He watched as her nails dug into her arms, teeth pulling on her bottom lip.  
_

_His chest tightened. He'd never wanted to beg for work, and he certainly wouldn't have put it out there that he was lookin' for it after what he just saw. But something about the way she asked it, like it was the smallest hope she was clinging to. Now he wasn't sure he could say no. _

"_Maybe," he muttered, shifting his weight, lookin' away. But he could feel her eyes on him and he couldn't _not _look back at her. Her eyes had grown wide against her face, the smallest bit of hope coming back. _

"_Really?" she whispered, and the hope in her voice, in her _eyes _all but crushed him. He was in it now. Weren't no goin' back. She flew down the steps, stopping just before him and he couldn't help but back away as she did. _

_Carol didn't notice she was so fuckin' happy about it. _

"_Do you really need work?" she asked again, eyes searching out his face, and he swallowed hard. He rubbed the back of his neck, couldn't find the right way to breathe, but there weren't any other answer were there? _

_He _wanted _to work here,_ needed _it__ regardless of whatever shit was goin' on. Andrea was right. If he just did his work, and went on with his way it shouldn't be a problem should it? _

_He sighed, letting his shoulders sag. "Yeah," he admitted weakly. He could just hear Merle now, laughing his fuckin' head off at him. Callin' him a fool, gettin' himself caught up in some damn soap opera.  
_

_He should walk away right now. Walk away before he got in too deep. _

_But the way Carol's eyes lit up you would have thought he'd just given her the world on a silver platter.  
_

_Carol reached out and took hold of his hand. He stiffened in response but didn't pull back. Didn't want to make her uncomfortable, didn't want her think he was fucked in the head. He just pushed back the risin' fear and let her hold his head gently.  
_

_Daryl didn't think he'd ever like the feel of someone's hand in his, but he was starting to think he was wrong. _

"_Please," she begged softly, and he hated that she did that. She didn't need to beg him for shit. "I know what I must look like, but…" she swallowed, her throat bobbing with the motion. Carol pulled her hand away then, biting her bottom lip. _

_He watched it start to bleed once more, and he wanted to tell her to stop. But he didn't. Those green eyes sought him out once more, and he couldn't look away. "Our ranch hand just quit the other day. Didn't leave us with any warning," she murmured softly. "It doesn't matter if you don't have any experience, or if you hate me, or if you-" _

_He held up a hand to stop her. He didn't want to hear any more of that shit, and he sure as hell didn't want her to keep talkin' like she deserved to be walked all over. He'd lived with that shit his whole life and he weren't gonna listen to someone else talk the same way. _

"_Save it," he barked, regretting his decision already. She flinched, and as much as he hated to see that he weren't gonna apologize for it. "Just need work." She pulled her bottom lip in, and smiled hesitantly. _

_"But I don't got any experience with horses," he muttered, looking away embarrassed. He didn't want to tell her that they made him fuckin' nervous. She breathed a sigh, her hand falling to her chest. _

"_Thank you," she said with so much gratitude that he actually felt sick to his stomach. What did _she _have to thank him for? She was the one giving him a job. What would happen if he hadn't said yes? What would a happened if she hadn't found someone to replace the asshole who'd left? _

_He was thinkin' he didn't want to know. _

_Carol took a breath, her shoulders relaxing and then she smiled up at him. "Let me show you around then, and we can talk terms of employment?" He chewed the skin at his nail, more than nervous now, and just shrugged his shoulders. Didn't really matter what she had him doin'. Work was work. He'd keep his fuckin' nose to the ground and see where this went. _

And now he had a damn place to hisself, makin' more money than he thought he would of. He had work _and _a place to live all in two days a comin' to this town. Maybe somebody _was_ lookin' out fer him.

Course, he was gonna have to learn how to work with _horses_.

He felt a chill go up his back and he shook himself.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Dale, but he didn't seem too bad. Carol seemed to like him, cos she didn't stop talkin' bout him once she started. But he'd have to make his own judgments on that. He didn't trust _nobody_. Not less they earned it.

Was why he didn't want to get too comfortable here. If this didn't work out, then he'd have to bail. Not that he liked the idea of that either, especially after what the last asshole did. But he'd take care of himself first.

Just that…

He watched Carol. Could see in the set of her shoulders the ache that she was carrying. The pain that she was suffering. The sorrow that she was releasing. Weren't nothing anybody could do about that.

She just wanted _Sky_.

Whoever the fuck that was. Dale said it was some damn horse, but he didn't get it really.

But then, he couldn't really blame her either. When all ya got is _this_ he wondered if the only things ya ended up lovin' were the things that came to rely on ya. And he remembered the look on her face when she took him through that stable just earlier, and how she lit up.

He didn't think she could look so damn happy. _Especially _not round no horses.

_She walked ahead of him, and he couldn't help but notice a little hop to her walk. _

"_Dale's my foreman. He helps me run the farm. Does what maintenance he can," she trailed off, looking over her shoulder to smile at him. He just grunted, taking in the huge herd of cattle he'd missed before. Lot a fuckin' beasts. He didn't know how in the hell they managed that. He noted a tool shed, and a small cabin off the side to the stable. Didn't think it was much but a storehouse for shit. Figures they had all this fuckin' room. _

"_We've got a cabin, over there," she said, pointing out the very building he'd just dismissed. "It's where you can stay," she said softer now, a little shyly. He stopped, unable to process what she'd just said. Where he could _stay_? As in live?_

"'_Scuse me?" She turned to face him, confusion clear across her face. _

"_I'm sorry? Did I say something wrong?" He looked at the cabin. It was small but it wasn't like it mattered. They had a fuckin' cabin set away just for _him_?_

"_A cabin," he repeated, dumbfounded, "for me?" She smiled softly, waiting for him to catch onto it. To let it sink in. She nodded her head when the silence between them stretched on. _

_He scratched the back of his head, discomfort growing bigger by the second. He didn't like being no damn charity case. _

"_Ain't no damn charity case," he growled out. Carol's eyes widened, her hands coming up. _

"_Oh no," she said hurriedly, "it's nothing like that. We remodeled that thing ages ago. For whoever worked on the farm. Last ranch hand lived there too." He watched her face for any kind of lie, but he couldn't see it. She just kept that soft smile, and the warmth in her eyes. _

_He shifted, shoulders slumping. "So I can live there?" He hated that fuckin' hope that slipped through his voice. What were the chances that he'd find a goldmine like this?_

"_Only if you want too," she murmured, her gaze slipping from his, eyes going dark. He looked away. How many people had left because of her situation? How many people had walked away?_

_Couldn't say he'd blame'em. Weren't like this was one big happy fuckin' family. _

_But he'd lived through worse shit, and he needed work and he weren't gonna let some fuckin' dick run him off. _

_He sighed, runnin' a hand through his hair. _

"_Needed a place to stay anyway," he muttered. And he couldn't stop his gut from twisting at the way her smile graced her features. It transformed her face and he couldn't stand to look at it. Made him uneasy. Didn't like what that did to him. _

"_Come on then," she said, waving him forward. He breathed deep, knowing he was gonna have to do whatever it took to make this work. He didn't want to admit it, but he liked it here. _

_Maybe not these people yet, but the view was nice. _

_He trailed after Carol slowly, hesitating when he saw her make a straight shot for the stables. _

_Where the damn horses were. He let a string of curses slip passed his lips but kept followin' her till he got to the wide open door where he stopped. _

_She kept walking into the stable, not bothering to check and see if he followed. And he didn't. He peeked through the doors and he watched as several large faces popped out from behind some stalls. They looked like cages. He didn't like the looks of those. But Carol reached up to greet each one, a smile on her face and her voice soft. _

_There was a tenderness that he'd not seen before. _

"_There's someone I want you to meet," she called over her shoulder, walking a little faster now, a lightness to her voice. He took a hesitant step forward, his skin startin' to itch. The stable was warm and dry, and smelled like hay and leather and the end of summer. And _horses_. He didn't think he'd ever know what horses smelled like but he could practically breathe it in. And if he were honest, it wasn't all that bad. _

_"I think you'll like him," she called out. But he still didn't follow her, and she still didn't bother to see if he was followin'._

_Something about the smell made him feel at ease. It was dusty, and earthy, and hell, there was even the smell of shit beneath it all. But for some reason, it was comforting. _

_He took another step inside, letting the warmth settle over his shoulders. Carol reached the end and stopped, turning to face one of the stalls. But no horse came out and somethin' changed. He could see her body stiffen. _

_Her hand rested on the door, and she reached up on her toes to peer inside. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Didn't like the way she was starting to lose that happy little glow she'd gotten when he admitted he wanted work. _

"_Dale!" He jumped at the sound of her voice suddenly filling his ears. He didn't think she had it in her to project it that far but she did. Her lungs pushed her voice out, sending it farther then he imagined. And he could hear the panic in it, felt it in his stomach. _

"_Dale!" she screamed louder, and started running out the back door of the stable. He stood for a moment, unsure of what the hell he was supposed to do. Did he follow? Did he stand there like a fuckin' idiot? _

"_Help me!" His gut clenched, and that was it. He couldn't stand there, when clearly something was wrong. He jogged around the stable and found her staring out at the field, hands gripping the post. He made his way up to her, slowing down because he didn't know how to handle this. _

_Women weren't his thing, especially upset ones. _

_She must have heard him coming though because she whirled around so fast that he halted mid-step. She clutched at some rope in her hands, and her eyes were red. She hadn't started crying yet, but it was coming. Whatever this was, it was enough to push her to the edge. _

"_He's gone," she whimpered, her whole body beginning to shake. Daryl didn't know who _he _was but he'd take a good guess that she weren't talking about Ed. No one should a missed that asshole. _

_She took a step toward him, wringing the rope in her hands. "He's gone!" she cried out. He took a step back, her emotions overwhelming. She was looking for comfort and he didn't have any to give. Not something he _could _give. He didn't know how to do that. He'd been fuckin' that up his whole life.  
_

_They both turned to the sound of heavy breathing and feet. He watched as a man in his late 50s, maybe older, came jogging up to her, face red, concerned. _

"_Carol," he gasped out, holding out a hand to her. Carol lunged at him, and he couldn't believe it but she buried her face in his chest. He swallowed hard and looked away. There must have been more going on here than he thought. _

"_Carol, what happened?" the man asked. He took off his bucket hat, rubbed at his forehead and looked around, catching his eyes. They narrowed for a moment, and Daryl knew where this was going. _

_Ain't no way in hell he were gonna get caught between some lovers spat. _

_Carol shoved away from him and pointed to the stables, and Daryl noticed the tear tracks down her face. _

"_He's gone, Dale," she cried, holding up the rope in her hands. The gray-haired man, _Dale_, took the rope from her hands and studied it. And then his face lit up with grim realization. _

"_You don't mean-" _

"_Yes!" she screamed. Daryl flinched, and stepped back, now ready to escape. He didn't sign up for_ this_.  
_

"_Sky is gone!" He watched as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she started to pace. "Ed flew out of the house this morning and I don't know where he's gone. He said he had to 'take care of the problem'," she said hastily, her words running together in her fear. "He had to of taken him," she cried, holding Dale's gaze, clutching at her stomach. _

"_He's gone, and now," she whimpered, turning around, already starting to walk away, "I'll never get him back." Daryl felt his heart twist at the way her words broke. Her shoulders caved in, and started to shake. He'd seen that defeated look, _felt _it more times than he cared to admit.  
_

"_Carol," Dale called, but she didn't answer. And she kept walking until she was standing in the middle of that field, looking up at the sky. She didn't scream, and he didn't see her start kicking or throwing herself around in a fit. _

_She just sat down in the middle of that field, and he was sure that she continued to cry, silently. _

_And for some reason it made his chest ache. _

He still couldn't shake that feeling in his chest. Because he didn't know what else to do but watch her sit out there. And that made him feel like shit. All his life he felt like he was just watchin' people suffer. Hell, _he _suffered his whole life and all anybody ever did was watch. And now, he was gonna do the same thing?

_Fuck_. Did he go and say something? He didn't know how to handle women. He'd been the pussy in the family his whole life. Merle had been gettin' on his back since he turned fifteen to get some ass but he never wanted that. Never felt like he was worth it, never felt like they were worth it. Never wanted to be just like his ol' man and Merle.

He didn't want to fuck that up yet, so all that left was working. _Did_ he start working? What the hell did he start working on? He only knew how to fix shit. Didn't know jack about horses. Too scared – too _big _for him to handle.

He turned around, eyeing the stables as the sounds of the horses filled the air.

"Fuck," he muttered. Dale had said something about the roof needing fixin'. Didn't like the idea of being on top of all those fuckin' horses but at least he weren't inside with them all.

He glanced over his shoulder one last time, makin' sure she hadn't moved. He couldn't do nothin' to help her, didn't know how. But he'd do somethin'.

"Got work to do," he mumbled to himself, and headed for the stable.

* * *

**A/N**: As I write this I realize it is moving at a _snail's _pace. But it may pick up in later chapters. For now, we will walk. I'm unsure of how I feel about this chapter as well, but it was what was produced. Thanks for being here guys! Cookies all around!


	4. Empty

**Noxi: **So writing the horses? Has become the best part about this fic. I literally _itch _to write them, write Carol interacting with them. Her feelings on them, _anything_. You guys are going to be _bombarded _by horses throughout this whole fic if my feels have anything to say about it. And I honestly cannot thank you all enough for the amount of love you have shown me; reviews, follows, favorites. Thank you so much, really. That kind of love just makes me want to write more.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Empty

There was a hole in her chest. Something that she couldn't close, or patch up. It was like she'd had a part of her ripped away. And really, she had.

Sky was more than just a horse. He was like a child. He had a place in her heart right next to Sophia. He'd been the one she told all of her secrets to late in the night. He was the one who never judged her for never being able to leave Ed. He was the one who had been able to make her laugh when she didn't think she could. He was the one that she didn't have to speak to that understood everything about her.

And now that he was gone she felt _empty _inside.

It didn't help that everywhere she looked everything reminded her of Sky. The mountains to the north of her - she used to ride the trails, marked and unmarked with him. He used to get more excited about them than she did. When Sophia was at school and she finally had some time to herself she would take Sky up the trails and they would stay together for a few hours, whether it was riding or just sitting in a patch of sunlight.

The sky above her shining crystal blue in the clear day. He would have kicked his hooves to that sky, tossing his head back. He always knew when it was a good day, and he never used to let her forget it either.

The cattails down by the river swaying to the breeze looked as if they were dancing. And all she could see was Sky running through the pasture, his whinny echoing in her ears as he pranced. He liked to splash through that river when she gave him the chance.

He was black as the midnight sky but he was never more beautiful than when the sun shone on that beautiful coat, like an onyx stone.

She felt the tears slip down her cheeks and she hugged her arms around herself, pulling on the bruise. She _hated _Ed. Hated everything that he had done to her.

He could call her whatever he wanted, he could hit her, rape her, _whip _her, mark her for the entire world to see but as long as he left the things she cared for most in the world alone? It didn't matter.

_It didn't matter_.

He left Sophia alone. He left Sky alone. He left them all alone. She took everything onto herself and it seemed to placate him.

But now?

Henry must have been the last straw. _Rick _was the last straw.

But she couldn't blame Rick; not for doing what _he _thought was best. She'd been keeping everyone at arm's length. She'd never allowed anyone to try and save her. Because it didn't matter what they did.

No one had ever cared before. Not even her _mother_.

She could remember all the times her mother had told her the same story over and over again – about a little girl who had accepted her life as it was. _Because that was what she was supposed to do_. And she was supposed to be okay with that. Because it was her life.

When her mother took away her doll when she was seven, it was because she wasn't supposed to have it. When her father locked her in the closet, it was because she deserved it. When her mother told her she couldn't cut her hair, it was because short hair was for _men _and wouldn't attract her a husband. When she had a miscarriage, it was because she'd done something wrong by Ed. When showed her mother the very first bruises it was because she'd done something to_ deserve them. _

So now, this was something she was supposed to accept. She'd done _wrong _by Ed. She'd not given him what he wanted, didn't try harder to keep Henry around, didn't work harder on the farm, and didn't work harder to _please him_.

She looked up at the sky, her eyes burning. Her mother and father had groomed her for this life. She knew that now. Knew that she wasn't meant for anything _but _this. She was going to be walked over her whole life.

She'd never done anything to stand up for herself.

She deserved this. But Sky didn't. She wished Ed would have just beaten her, whipped her, done _something _to her. But not to her Sky.

"God _damn _you, Ed," she muttered, the tears burning against her eyes again. She didn't like saying the Lord's name in vain but sometimes she couldn't help it. Sometimes, it was better to ask for forgiveness. She pulled at the grass at her side, tearing chunks from the ground. Wished she'd been tearing into Ed's flesh instead.

Wished she had the strength to do that.

If she had, she would have killed Ed a long time ago.

"_Consider my affliction and my trouble, and __**forgive**__ all my sins, Lord,_" she cited, prayed. She curled her knees to her chest, hating herself for those thoughts that coursed through her mind. Hating herself for _hating _them.

Ed never once showed any remorse for all of things he had done to their animals, to _her_. Why did she have to be the better person?

"Better is the little that the righteous has than the abundance of many wicked," she murmured, not feeling any better for it. The wicked things that Ed had done, that he _kept _doing never stopped. Were _never _going to stop. No matter how righteous she continued to be. No matter how good of a wife she tried to be to him.

He would always be the way he was. She would never be what he wanted.

She would always be _weak_.

A loud bang pulled her from her thoughts. She turned around, searching for the sound, wiping at the tears on her face. She couldn't think of anything that would make the noise, unless one of the horses was having a problem. She'd have to go to them if it was. She'd never leave them alone.

She felt her heart constrict at the thought that she'd never be there for Sky again, wherever he was. She'd never be able to go to him whenever she needed him. She felt her eyes burn at the thought, and rose to her feet before she started to cry again.

She couldn't sit here and wallow in this pain any longer.

She took a deep breath, pulled the pain in deep and buried it, and started for the sound. Now that she was moving, focusing on it, she could tell that it wasn't coming from _inside _the stables. It was coming from atop it. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun and found someone hunched over the roof, swinging down against the wood.

The _bang_ echoed out, startling her. There was only person who could be up there.

She started jogging, her nerves cutting off her air. She stopped at the bottom of the ladder, placed against the wall of the stable and looked up. He could fall, he could slide off, he could slip. Enough had happened today.

"Daryl?" she called hesitantly, hoping against hope that he didn't answer back. She didn't want it to be him up there, but she knew it was foolish to think that. He was the only one who was here.

There was a moment of deafening silence where she looked down at her feet and prayed. And then she heard a grunt.

"Daryl!" She looked up, grabbing hold of the ladder. Fear was tight in her chest, though she couldn't place why. Sure, she worried about Dale but she never felt that pinched feeling in her chest before.

She was just about to call out his name again when his head poked over the side. She felt her chest expand and the breath leave her.

"Daryl, what are you doing?" He was there for a moment, and she could swear that she saw his face twist up, hear him grumble something. But he just disappeared over the ledge again.

She couldn't go up the ladder. She'd never been very good at climbing and Ed had always forbade her from using any of the tools. But she would do _anything _to keep her from thinking about Sky right now.

"If you don't talk to me, I'm coming up there," she called, grabbing onto the ladder and shaking it, making noise. She wouldn't really but she could make a show of it.

"Dammit," she heard him growl, his boots clodding heavily around on the roof. She waited on bated breath for him to appear again.

"The hell you want?" he called, leaning over the edge.

She felt her heart drop into her stomach as she stepped back from the ladder, her hands going to her mouth. He could fall. He could fall with just a slip of a foot and he would be dead.

She couldn't take that right now.

"Daryl," she called, feeling lightheaded suddenly, "Daryl please don't lean over the edge." His hand went to his hip, and she suddenly felt the childish urge to giggle. She was so upset, and there was enough fear in her chest to consume her but that one little pop of his hip seemed so childish.

Clearly, Daryl wasn't worried.

"Dammit woman, I'm busy," he called down to her and disappearing once more beyond the edge. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. Obviously he was doing something important on the roof. Something he'd decided to do on his own.

She sighed, and took a step back, found herself looking out over the fields again. The _empty _pasture where Sky was always let free to roam. The cattle were grazing, basking in the sun in the pasture set further back. The few young that had been born just that spring were trailing about the field, trying to run on unsteady legs.

There wasn't any time to sit and mourn for what she had lost, for what was _taken_. As much as she _hated _Ed for taking Sky away from her, she couldn't sit around and wallow in that.

The tears slipped down her cheeks and she wiped them away hurriedly. There was nothing she could do now about Sky.

The sound of tires behind her sent a flash of hope through her, blinding her. She spun on her heel and ran, skidding around the stable. Maybe Ed would come back, maybe he would bring Sky back to her.

She stopped short at the sight of the red pick-up bouncing down the road toward her, feeling that flash of hope trickle through her fingers like water across her palm. She was so _stupid_.

She pulled her arms across her chest, adjusting her shirt over her shoulder, wiping at her lip. She wouldn't be able to hide the marks that Ed had left behind now.

She waited for them, watching as they pulled up next to her, stopping to get out. Martinez slipped from the driver's side, Tyreese following from the passenger's side slowly, with more ease. She felt herself take a step back in response.

"Tyreese, Caesar," she said softly, nodding at each of them. Tyreese tipped his cowboy hat to her, and she felt a little better for it. He'd always been such a gentlemen to her even when she'd ignored him. Caesar adjusted his belt, but his eyes sought out the stable.

"What can I do for you?" She hadn't been expecting them and it wasn't like them to show up unannounced. _No one _showed up without Ed knowing about it.

"Dale sent us," Tyreese said, his deep voice sending a ripple of calm through her. At least they weren't here because they'd heard something about Ed. At least they weren't here for _her_. But why had Dale sent them?

"I'm sorry," she muttered, rubbing at her arm, "I'm not sure I understand." Caesar took a step toward her, one hand sweeping out toward the stable. She glanced toward it, her eyes seeking out Daryl's form somewhere on the roof.

"Dale said something bout yer roof needing a fix." She took a step back. Dale should have fixed the roof the other day. Dale was _working_ on the roof the other day.

She sighed, running a hand across her cheek. Dale had been unable to fix the roof, and hadn't told her. Just like Dale.

And then, realization hit her. She turned around and looked up at the roof and could see Daryl watching her now. And she felt her lips turn up, her eyes starting to burn. Daryl had gone up there, on his first day here, within _hours _and had started to work on the roof.

Didn't need any asking. Didn't need someone to tell him. He just went up there and started doing it.

Who was this man, and where had he come from?

"Carol?" She could hear the question in Tyreese's voice, the uncertainty. There wasn't any way that Ed would have paid for them to fix the roof. She didn't know what Dale was thinking sending Tyreese and Caeser out here for this. Never mind _not _paying for it, they _couldn't. _They didn't have the money to afford someone else to fix the roof.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning back to them. "Dale made a mistake." She could see the wheels turning. She knew Tyreese would be accept it, would politely walk away. But Caesar? He was a little more…_hot_. That was the only word she could think of for it. When things didn't turn in his favor, he went hot.

"The hell you mean Dale made a mistake?" She took another step back, watching as his face turned red with anger.

"Martinez, now ain't the time for that," Tyreese said quietly next to him, eyeing Carol carefully. She knew he could see her bruises, the split on her lip. She knew he was only guessing as to what was happening. She felt shame burn up her neck.

"No. Dale told us there was a problem, and I intend to see about it." She bristled at the tone of his voice, at the _insinuation_. He didn't think she knew what she was talking about. As if she were incompetent.

_Men_.

"Martinez," she said firmly, feeling the last of her patience slip from her. She wasn't going to sit here and let one more man walk all over her. She already let the one she was married to do that.

Martinez stopped at the sound of his name on her lips, the tone of it. She didn't like to let her temper get the better of her, because it never ended well when Ed noticed it. She could feel her hands start to shake, hear Ed's voice echoing in her head.

_The hell you just say to me bitch? _

She bit her lip, fighting back the response to flinch. Ed wasn't here. Ed _wasn't here. _

"It's fine Carol," he barked back at her, continuing towards the stable. Her mouth dropped open. She couldn't _believe _that he was completely ignoring her. The audacity of his behavior had her stunned silent for a moment. But to _hell_ if he was going to touch her property acting like that.

"Martinez," she called louder this time, following him.

"I'm sorry Carol," Tyreese said next to her, looking abashed. He could hide his head under a rock for ten years and it _still _wouldn't excuse some of the crap that Martinez thought he could get away with.

"Just tell him I don't need his services Tyreese, and I'll consider this forgotten," she murmured next to him, avoiding his gaze. She could see him staring at her jaw, the bruise more than likely ugly and black on her face.

"Martinez let's go!" he called, racing to catch up to him. They stopped at the wall, both looking up. She was tired of people thinking she couldn't handle herself. Every day she woke up before the world was alive, took care of everyone that needed her, never asked anything for herself, and _still _managed to take whatever Ed threw at her.

"I just wanna let Carol know what kind a damage is done, and why she'll need us," Martinez said back, not bothering to hide the arrogance lacing his voice.

She suddenly wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to ride off into the mountains on Sky's back and never come back.

And then all of the fight just left her, and she couldn't think of anything but Sky. Sky alone, Sky _gone_.

"The hell are ya doin'?" Her ears perked up at the sound of Daryl's voice filtering down. She glanced up to see Daryl peeking over the edge, hammer in his hand this time. She could tell from here by his tense shoulders, and his tight face that he was confused, didn't like what he was seeing.

Martinez looked confused for a moment before looking at her.

"Who's he?" Carol chewed her lip, tasting blood, and didn't take her eyes from Daryl. Watching him up on the roof sent a strange feeling through her.

"He's…" she hadn't thought this through though. Hiring Daryl meant telling everyone, telling _Ed _that they had a new ranch-hand. She swallowed hard. She'd never been good at doing that. Ed was always the one to make the final decision even if she had been the one to make that suggestion.

Ed always thought he was the one running this farm. And she liked to let him believe that.

"Well?" Martinez looked like he was about to pitch a fit, but it didn't matter what he wanted. She still didn't need him.

"He's my new ranch-hand," she said, with as much confidence as she could. She didn't like the way her hands shook, but she curled them tight, nails digging into her palms. "And _he's _fixing the roof."

Martinez gave her the dirtiest look she'd seen, and she curled her shoulders in tight. The only time _anyone _ever looked at her liked that was when they were going to hit her.

"The hell's goin' on?" Daryl yelled. She took a step back toward the ladder and gripped the metal leg tightly. She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn away. This was her farm, as much as it was Ed's. She needed to make that known right then.

"Daryl's fixin' the roof," she continued, holding his gaze despite how badly she wanted to look away. She knew Martinez wouldn't _ever _do anything to her. But she could never shake the feeling of _fear_ that gripped her whenever someone got upset with her. Whenever Ed was upset with her – he would let her know with a look, or his words or his _fists_.

Martinez scoffed, and turned away, stomping for his truck.

"Yeah well, when he fucks it up don't come runnin' to us," he growled over his shoulder. It didn't even matter what he said. She sighed in relief at his retreating form. Tyreese rubbed the back of his neck, watching Martinez slam the truck door shut hard.

"You know he don't mean it, right?" Carol turned to Tyreese, concern written across his face. She smiled weakly, and nodded.

"I know," she murmured quietly. _Still doesn't mean he's not a jerk_, she thought.

Tyreese nodded, watched her a moment longer and then tipped his hat toward her again and took off. And only when they were both in the car driving away did she breathe in relief.

The ladder shook next to her, and she looked up to find Daryl climbing down. She grabbed hold of the legs, steadying it.

He watched her for a moment, hammer in one hand, biting the skin of his thumb with the other. He watched the truck speed away and then he found her eyes again. She didn't like the way he stared at her, like was looking for something.

"Everything alright boss?" he muttered, glancing away.

She nearly choked. Never, _never _had anyone called her boss on this farm. Ed was always the one who'd demanded that title. She didn't like the way he said, and she didn't like the way it sounded in her ears.

She wasn't a _boss_.

"_Carol_," she stressed, curling inward. She felt empty inside again. She didn't want to be his _boss_. She didn't _own _him. She didn't own anybody or anything. She didn't have that kind of power. Didn't _want _that power. He was his own person, free to do what he wanted, to _be _who he wanted. She turned on her heel, and walked away before he could see the tears slip down her cheeks, betraying her.

She was the one who was owned.

**XXX**

She breathed in the scent of the coffee, held the mug tight to her chest. The warmth felt good against her skin, made her feel a little bit better. She watched Daryl through the kitchen window; watched him wipe the sweat from his face, watched as he kneeled on the roof, back bent to the sweltering sun.

Despite everything, she could see something in him. Despite everything, he was doing _exactly _what Ed should have been.

Instead Ed was only looking for ways to make her hurt. Looking to punish her for wrongs that weren't even there.

She sat down, pushed the coffee away from her and laid her head over her arms.

She was so tired. Tired of living like this. She just wanted to have one day of peace, one day without fear, one day where everything was _right_.

She didn't want to cry anymore, she didn't want to hurt anymore, didn't want to live fearing what would come next. That wasn't any way to live. She closed her eyes, the will to do anything gone.

A scream filtered through her ears, and she jerked up, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. She knew the sound of a horses scream like she knew each of Sophia's. It cut through her, piercing her.

She flew from the chair, ignoring it as it crashed to the floor, her coffee spilling across the table as she bumped into it in her haste to run from the kitchen.

She ran down the steps and to the stables, but another scream erupted in the air and it wasn't coming from the stables; though the other horses were starting to get nervous.

She glanced across the pasture and her eyes found the solitary shed in the back, the one where Outlaw was being kept.

"Carol?" She didn't even take the time to answer Daryl. She was running like she'd never had before. She watched as the cattle dispersed, scared by the sounds coming from the shed, and she didn't think she was breathing.

Outlaw rarely ever screamed. He may have _hated _the shed, and the halter, and the whip and _everything _that Ed had ever done to him. But he _never _screamed.

She felt her eyes start to burn as she bit her lip.

She should never have let Ed do _any _of those things to Outlaw. He was broken, and she allowed Ed to _continue _to break him.

She reached the shed just as she was starting to hate herself, and pulled the door open to find Outlaw pulling against the lead rope that kept him tied to the wall. Her heart dropped like a lead weight into her chest as she watched him struggle, and pull against that rope. Ed had managed to work it so that no matter what Outlaw did he wouldn't be able to free himself. He was tied to that wall, the halter straining against his face. He screamed again when he saw her and she couldn't stop the cry that escaped her.

He was going to hurt himself and he didn't even care.

He tossed himself against the walls, threw his head back, kicked his legs out. He was doing everything he could to get free but there simply wasn't enough room. He was only hurting himself in the long run.

She kicked herself for not bringing another lead rope.

"Hey boy," she whispered, stepping into the only space where she wouldn't be kicked. His eyes went wide and he cried out. "I'm not gonna hurt ya," she whispered, her chest too tight. She put her hands up, circling to his side. She spotted a rope on the wall to her left, and snagged it. Outlaw went wild again and she couldn't blame him. Who knew what Ed had been using it for.

"I won't hurt you," she called softly, moving toward him slowly. She kept talking to him, kept shushing him. She wanted him to hear _her _voice, to know that she wasn't Ed. She kept the rope held out toward him and when she was close enough she placed her hand on his shoulder and loped it around his neck carefully.

He reacted much the way she expected him too. He bucked once and she backed away, her hand still firmly holding to the rope.

"Easy now," she murmured, shushing him gently. She took a step forward, ran a hand across his shoulder, over his back and down the barrel of his ribs. He tip-toed nervously, snorted, and whinnied.

She saw Daryl approach the shed out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored him. She couldn't teach him anything from this, not now. She couldn't let him distract her either.

"It's okay," she whispered, taking another step forward, putting her body closer to his. Outlaw shook his head, his brown mane flicking against her face but the buzz his body had been giving off seemed to be dimming somewhat. As long as he was responding to her she couldn't stop.

"I'm so sorry I let him do this to you," she whispered, her voice laced with tears. "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough," she didn't think about what she was doing as she rested her head against his shoulder.

She should have been taking care of him. She'd let one of her children slip through her fingers, and now here was one crying out in pain. She couldn't let this go on any long.

She could feel his skin quiver beneath her, as he snorted nervously. She backed away slowly, leaving her hand to trail along his shoulder and up to his neck where she clipped her rope to his halter and unclipped the ones that Ed had used to keep him attached to the shed.

"I won't leave you in here anymore," she told him. She'd find a way to keep him free of this. If Ed wanted him, he'd have to let him stay in the stables. If Ed was going to _take _Sky from her, then she was going to take Outlaw from _him_.

"I'll take care of you from now on, I _promise_," she whispered softly to him, caressing his face. She pulled on the rope gently, guiding him out of the shed. It was all she could do now. All she had left to herself. She'd lost Sky, but she hadn't lost Outlaw yet.

He resisted at first, digging his shoes into the ground. But with a little coaxing, her soft hand and voice, he shifted out of that shed nervously. And once he was out of those doors he reared up, neighing loudly.

To think that this was _freedom _to him.

She felt the tears slip passed her cheeks. It was such a _warped _sense of freedom.

"Come on Outlaw, let's go," and she led him away from shed, Daryl following at a distance. He shook himself as if he were shaking away the confines of the shed, and the closer she took him to the pasture, the livelier he got.

He still eyed her with some suspicion, kept his distance and she knew it would be some time before he fully let someone trust him. But she could see that leaving the shed had done something.

It had given him _hope. _

She couldn't let him go back there now. She couldn't destroy the hope that she had given him. No matter what Ed had to say or_ do _about it.

Daryl pulled the gate open for her, and she smiled her thanks as she led Outlaw inside. He pranced, anxious to get away from her, to get free of the rope. She reached up hesitantly, sure that he could see her hand.

"Let me help you," she pleaded, unclasping the hook. And the moment he realized he was free of her he took off. She stepped back toward the gate, grasping the rope tightly in her hands as she watched him run around the pasture with a speed that surpassed Sky's.

He wanted to really be _free_.

"Why don't ya just let'im go?" She curled her shoulders in tight, hugged her arms to herself. What Daryl asked wasn't out of line, was even something she considered _every day. _

But Ed would never let her get away with that.

And because Outlaw was a beautiful creature that she wanted to get to know.

Because she wanted to mend his spirit.

Because now, Sky was _gone._

But none of those answers were good enough. Because why _did _she keep Outlaw if Ed was only going to hurt them both in the end? Why put him through the torture of being caged when he was only suffering by it? Why keep him here, when she could set him free?

She opened the gate, closed it behind her, and walked away, leaving Daryl behind. She hurried back to the house, running from the tears burning at her eyes, at the way her chest ached, and the gaze burning against her back.

There was a simple answer to it; one she didn't think would please him to hear. Daryl would probably hate her for it, would probably look at her with disgust. And she couldn't tell him, didn't want this man who had only just entered her life to look at her like that.

She kept people so far from her heart. She didn't let anyone in for fear that they might hurt her. But what it really came down to, and what Ed knew would hurt her most was that she didn't want to be without them.

She didn't want be _alone_.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for being here you guys, seriously. I love you. Cookies, _and _a fruit platter (HGRHfan35!) all around.

P.S. If anyone around here is a **Meth**er and on Tumblr, I'm part of blog created for Meth, where you can create and love in peace and harmony. Check it out - put in the bottom name before the tumblr web address!

blog/the-meth-lab/

I've also got a link in my profile.


	5. Simple

**Noxi**: I put this up without editing it one last time so there's probably going to be grammatical errors. I'm tired, wanted this out, oh well. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get up as well. It was pure procrastination on my part to get it written. I knew what I wanted to write, and found every other reason not to do it. I think the lack of Caryl is actually getting to _me. _So I think it'll be time for me to work on that. Thank you to _BulletTimeScully,_ as always, for her input on barns/stables.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Simple

He needed a cigarette. Or a drink. Maybe both. But he knew he wanted that cigarette. Couldn't stand here and watch this shit no longer. The more he thought about it, the more he just wanted to run from it. Cos this wasn't what he'd signed up for. Didn't want to be a part of no family soap opera. He could flip on the TV and watch one for fucks sake.

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair as he watched the house with unease.

Dale had _finally_ come back and brought the kid with him. She was eager to get home, he could see that on her face. But the minute she spotted him that excitement fell away. Her shoulders dropped, her hands twisted together, she backed up closer to Dale. She turned to Dale, grabbed his hand, and started talking to him.

He knew she were talking about him, _asking _about him. She kept looking his way, gestured toward him, had Dale looking at him. Didn't like the way they stared at him, but he kept about his business. Seemed some of the shingles on the roof had started coming loose, needed to be replaced, and it weren't gonna be no simple patch job. He was gonna have to take up the old shingles, replace'em, and then check the rest of it for more.

But that girl wouldn't stop _staring _at him. He could feel her eyes on his back while he moved about the roof, and it made him damn uncomfortable.

He tried to ignore her, keep about his work. That's what he'd been hired to do after all. But he couldn't _not _keep looking back at her. She was just standing there, still as a statue, staring at him.

Daryl finally gave up and walked to the edge where he could take a break. The sun was beatin' down on him and the sweat was drippin' in his eyes, trickled down his back makin' his shirt to stick him. What he wouldn't give for a cold shower. He sat on the edge, letting his feet hang over, wiping his face off.

That's how he was when Officer Rick Grimes pulled up to the house.

He watched as Rick got out of the white squad car, adjusting his Sheriff's hat over his eyes to block the sun. Rick didn't see him sittin' up there and he was glad for it. He'd had enough run-ins with the law for this town already, and he planned to keep it that way. The less he had to see of Officer _Shane _the better.

He watched Rick walk up to the house where Sophia ran out, grabbed his hand, smiled at him, greeting him like she knew him.

"Shit," he muttered, pulling his knee up to his chest, wrapping his arm around his leg. Just what he needed. An officer _Friendly_ who kept close with the Peletiers.

"Fuckin' figures," he muttered. What _didn't _make sense was that if Rick Grimes were a sheriff round these parts then how in the hell did Ed Peletier get away with _anything_?

He shook his head, fingering his pant leg, fingers itching as he licked his lip.

He wanted to get down from the roof and get his pack of smokes. His fingers _itched _for one, but he just didn't want to chance walking across the yard to the cabin and running into Grimes. He weren't ready for that yet. He'd had enough trouble for one day, and he was just glad to be doing something to take his mind off of it.

"Shit," he spat, watching as Sophia pointed him out to Grimes. Rick looked his way, holding his hand up to his eyes, and then waved. Daryl grunted, and didn't bother waving back.

What he'd think they were, friends?

The growl slipped passed his lips unwillingly, and he stood up. Damn town-folk. He should a known they were gonna be making their move fast. He stood up quick, shaking himself off. He had more shingles to pull up.

**XXX**

He sat there on the edge of the roof again, feet dangling over the edge and looked down at his work as the sun started to dip lower on the horizon. All of the shingles that needed to be replaced he'd managed to pull up and now they sat there in the grass. Roof was a patchwork of holes but he felt better for it. Shit would a gotten worse over time and cost more in the end.

Would have cost more to have some asshole come in and take care of it too. He knew he was cheap, easy labor. That's what he was there for. No reason not to utilize him.

He chewed his nail, something eating at him. He'd never had no one stick up for him like that. Merle had tried doin' that a few times, but it always got fucked in the end. They were a fucked family anyway so he didn't bother worrying on it no more. But Carol? He could tell she'd been nervous by that damn hothead and she _still _managed to tell him no.

But for a minute, he thought she was gonna let that jackass come up the ladder and take over.

_He wouldn't admit it to himself, but watching her try to stand up to those assholes made his gut twist. Carol looked scared, and she looked small. He didn't like the way her shoulders caved in, or the way she kept shifting away from the damn Mexican, _Martinez_. He recognized that look, knew it too well. How many times had he tried to hide from his ol' man? How many times had his ol' man made him feel like there was no way he could run, like he'd cornered him into a trap?_

"_Who's he?" And he sure as fuck didn't like the way that guy's voice carried. The way he got up in Carol's face, threatening her. What the hell did it matter who he was? Who the hell did that asshole think he was, the fuckin' Lord of some damn cartel and this were his fuckin' territory? _

_But then it was her _eyes _on his that dried his mouth, set his palms sweatin' and dug his nails into his skin. He'd never been good at takin' care a nobody, and he couldn't start _now_._

_"He's my new ranch-hand," she said suddenly, looking back at that jackass and drawing her shoulders up, just a little. He could see her fingers curl in tight against her palms. "And _he's _fixing the roof." Martinez and the black dude gave each other a look, before Martinez's lip curled up in a snarl at Carol. _

_He couldn't explain what happened next except that a surge of rage went through him, making his skin tingle and his blood boil. He wanted to knock that dick's face into the dirt for doing that to Carol. _

"_The hell's goin' on?" he called down, feeling too damn conflicted to do anything. He didn't know what the hell he would do. If he went down there, he'd beat that fuckin' look off that assholes face. _

_But those feelings ragin' inside him? _

_Confused the shit outta him. He didn't need that now, didn't need that messin' up his head. He was here to work, and that was it. Didn't need to be worryin' bout no damn lady and her business. _

_Cause that's what it was – _her _business. _

_Not his and he certainly didn't need to be takin' care a nothin'. Cause he weren't fuckin' good at that. Had enough shit from his past to prove it. Were enough there to prove that he was a fuck up in more ways than one. Just like Merle._

_Just like his ol' man. _

"_Daryl's fixin' the roof," she said, squarin' off against Martinez. And Martinez's lip curled up at Carol, sending a lick of hot rage through Daryl's gut. He bit his tongue, and thankfully that ass turned on his heel, _fuckin' cowboy boots_, and walked away. _

_"Yeah well, when he fucks it up don't come runnin' to us," Martinez growled over his shoulder, stalkin' away. _

"_Fuckin' greasy lil…" he cut himself off, watchin' Carol talk with the black guy, feeling more like Merle than he'd ever wanted too. _

"_Dammit," he growled, and turned away hatin' the side of him that was more Dixon than he wanted it to be. He'd carry that with him forever, wouldn't he. _

_Weren't no escapin' it. Weren't no changin' who you were, or what you'd come from. _

_Couldn't erase what marked you forever. _

"_You know he don't mean it, right?" He turned around, and watched as Carol nodded at the black dude, curling into herself, hands clutching at her arms. _

_Just because he couldn't escape from his scars didn't he mean he had to sit here and watch somebody else get walked all over. She was just a woman, and she didn't look like she wanted these men round her farm. _

_And before he could think twice about it, he was climbing down the ladder toward her, hammer still in hand making it awkward. He looked down to see her holding the ladder steady for him. _

_His throat closed up as she watched him intently and he wanted to climb right back up. But it were too late now. _

_He dropped to the ground, held her eyes for a moment before the anxiety took over. He picked at the skin of his thumb as he watched the red pick-up drive away, thankful those assholes had finally left. He didn't like the way she was looking. _

_Didn't like the way his chest pinched at the way she looking. _

"_Everything alright boss?" he muttered, looking away, unsure whether he should ask, unsure what to really call her now that she was his boss, unsure of the whole damn situation. He was nervous about the way she was looking at him now. _

"Carol_," she forced out, and he caught her shoulders caving in, and her eyes filling with tears as she stormed off. _

Way to go lil brother,_ laughter echoing in his head. _

"_Fuck you," he growled, and hurried back up the ladder and started taking the hammer to the shingles, tearing them off the roof with more force than he had before. _

He was still sittin' on the roof when Dale walked over to talk with Rick, Sophia gone, Carol still in the house. He didn't know what the hell they were all doin' and he didn't care.

He just wanted to get off the roof and take a shower. Needed to figure out _where _he was gonna do that. Didn't want to take one in the fuckin' house.

He'd find a fuckin' river before he did that. And he needed one. He was startin' to stink, the sweat makin' a home in his skin. He didn't mind it, but his new – _Carol _might mind it.

He didn't think she'd appreciate the smell.

He _still _hadn't had his smoke and he was gettin' fuckin' pissed about that. He didn't have nothin' to be afraid of, to be worried about. Rick Grimes was nothin' but a brown coat with a big hat and a shiny star.

He hadn't done nothin' wrong.

_You a pussy?_ His jaw ached, as he ground back an automatic response to that voice in his head. He hated that after all he'd done to run they were still there inside his head, taunting him. No matter how _far he'd come _he couldn't escape his blood.

"They found him." He jumped in his own skin.

"_Shit_," he barked out, as he scrambled back from the edge of the roof because he nearly fell off. He glanced down, finding the top of the little girl's head below his feet. She stood next to the ladder, watching Rick and Dale talk. His heart was pounding in his chest.

She didn't look up at him, didn't make any other comments. She just stood there, watching the house. He didn't know if he should say somethin' or go down there.

He'd never been good with kids, and he always managed to screw somethin' up with them same as women. If he didn't like being around women, he liked being around kids even less.

They took _everything _you said to heart. They did whatever you told them, and they never fought back. He didn't want to be the one to fuck some kid up because of something he said or did. Didn't want that on his head.

But it didn't matter. She just walked back into the stable without a word.

He stared after her, confused as hell, not sure what that was all about. But he'd take a guess as to the 'he' she was talking about.

And he didn't like the way that settled in his stomach.

**XXX**

Rick had gone into the house and that was when he'd made his descent from the roof. He needed to figure out where he should throw the wood away, find a tarp to cover the roof in case it rained. Didn't need to get in trouble for letting the horses get wet, and he sure as hell didn't need to ruin the rest of the roof.

He was carrying the ladder back to the shed where he'd got it when Dale came walking up to him. He weren't in the talking mood but he figured there was no avoiding it.

"Can we talk?" He was propping it up on the wall when he froze. No one had ever _asked _before. He turned to find Dale taking that stupid bucket hat off his head and running a hand through his thinning hair.

Daryl thought about it for a moment. Didn't see no reason not to. He'd asked and no one had ever done that before. Usually people just started spouting off shit to him. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. Man looked like he needed to get something off his chest anyway.

"What'd you say to Carol about Outlaw?" He grit his teeth and backed up a step, legs bumping into something behind him. He swallowed hard against the anger boiling out of his chest, and he felt his nails digging into his palms.

"Hell you say ol' man?" Dale's eyes widened and he took a step back.

There was a moment of heavy silence where Dale seemed to think about finishing whatever the hell he was gonna say. Daryl couldn't believe this. What the hell was that lady doin', accusing him of shit?

"I just want to know if you said anything to Carol about Outlaw," Dale said, the words rushing out of him in a panic. He looked scared now and damn right if he did. Sitting there and accusing him of shit he didn't do.

"Fuck this," he muttered and stepped around Dale, pushing past his shoulder as he went. "I ain't gotta sit here and do this. I didn't do nothin' to her," he growled as he stepped out of the shed, the setting sun blinding him for a moment. He could tell it was gonna get dark fast. That sun would slip past those mountains and night would be here fast. Just like it had been at home.

_Fuckin' home_, he thought. You think you run far enough and you can't escape _nothin_'.

"Daryl wait," Dale called, running to catch up to him. He pushed on, heading for the stables, _away _from Dale and whatever the hell he was trying to say. This is exactly what he didn't want to happen.

Already people were trying to put the blame on him for shit and he didn't even do nothing _wrong_.

_He heard the scream and he didn't know what the fuck it was or what he was supposed to do. He'd never heard a thing like that before. Something that could tear you in half and leave you trampled in the ground. It cut him inside, and left his ears bleeding. He wanted to curl back into his chest like he used to do when he was a kid and he wanted to run so far away until his legs ached and his feet burned and he couldn't breathe no longer. _

_He looked up, hearing it come from further down the farm. The cattle in the field scattered briefly, moving away from the building that the noise was coming from. He stood up, the hammer hanging uselessly at his side. _

_He heard the door bang shut behind him and saw Carol streaking out of the house and across the yard. She looked _scared_. She stopped by the stables and he looked down at her, anxiety gripping him tight. _

"_Carol?" But another scream ripped through the air and she took off, ignoring him. Her face was set, her shoulders were tight and he didn't think she had it in her to run so fast. But she was gone. _

_He hesitated for a moment. This wasn't anything he was familiar with. Did he help her? Was that part of his job? Was it something he could actually do? Did she even want him there?_

_But it was the sight of her fading back as she sprinted for the shed where the screams were now coming frantically that made his decision. She didn't stop, she didn't hesitate, she just _ran_. There was nothing that held her back, and nothing that stopped her from making that choice. She needed to get there, whatever it was. _

_And nothing would stop her. _

_He dropped the hammer on the roof and scrambled for the edge, climbing down the ladder as fast as he could. He ran for the sounds, his labored breathing loud in his ears, sweat dripping in his eyes. _

_And then he slid to a stop. _

_The horse was huge. Brown, with a white streak down its nose. It jerked and it screamed and it flung its large body around the small confines of the shed that it had been tied down to. _

_He couldn't believe what he was seeing. _

_First, the horse had something that tied around its face. The ropes that held him down were tied to that face contraption and he'd never wanted more than in that moment to hurt somebody for this. _

_Just because it was an animal didn't mean it _deserved _this. It didn't deserve to be locked away, without the freedom to move. It didn't deserve to not see the sky, and to live. _

_And then Carol stepped forward, and he couldn't breathe. The beast was still jerking and tip-toeing around. He wouldn't have gone near that thing when it was in that state. One wrong move and it looked like you could get your ass knocked out. _

_But she walked up to him slowly, hands out. And then she rested her hand against him, pushing her body closer to his. _

_And the horse? He couldn't believe it, but the damn thing seemed to settle. _

_He wouldn't never admit it, but it was like a magic. She rested her head against its shoulder, shushing and talking to it, and he couldn't help but watch her calm a beast that had every right to be angry. _

_She unclipped the ropes from his face, and tugged him toward the entrance. He was hesitant to follow, and Daryl didn't blame him. He wouldn't have gone nowhere with someone who'd locked him up and treated him like that. He wouldn't have trusted _no one_. _

_But once that horse got free of those shed doors he jumped back on his legs and screamed again – this one different than before. This time he looked like he was ready to fly. _

_He could see the difference in the horse, the way he started dancing back and forth, tossing his head back. The hair on his neck whipping in the wind, and Daryl could see in his eyes how much that horse wanted to _run_. _

_If he could a he would a let that horse just go. _

_Carol started walking him to the pasture and he followed, watching her coax him forward, her voice soft and her hands gentle. He'd never seen someone interact that way with an animal before. Never seen that kind of gentleness in somebody's face. The tenderness in her hands. She never once yelled at him for being out of control or for trying to get away from her. She didn't look angry and she didn't stop him from shaking off his hurt. She just led him to the only place where he could be free. _

_He saw the closed gate and ran to open it, figuring she had her hands full. He wouldn't know how to open a gate with a horse like that in his way. _

_And when she smiled at him it was all he could not to duck his head in shame. She was practically thanking him. _

_He was gonna have to tell her to stop. He'd never had no one be that nice to him before, and it was uncomfortable. He didn't know how to respond to it as he let it fall shut behind her. _

"_Let me help you," she pleaded, reaching up to unhook the thing around his face. The horse struggled for a moment, but once he realized that thing was off he was gone. And Daryl, he felt something strike him. The way that horse took off, running around the fence as if he were free felt all too familiar. Felt as if he knew exactly what that looked like, only the horse still had walls. _

"_Why don't ya just let'im go?" _

_He would have. Horse deserved to be free. It was all he wanted. What'd they need him for anyway? They had the cattle, they had the other horses. Did they really need the one that didn't want to be there, the one that fought them so hard to not be there? _

_He saw Carol hug her arms around herself as she ducked her head away from him. Her fingers dug into her skin and he was about to take it back. He didn't mean to talk outta line. Horse was their property. Not like he had any say in this shit. _

_And then she turned on her heel, opened the gate, ran past him avoiding his gaze and ran to the house. _

_But he didn't miss the way her eyes shone in the sunlight the highlighted her face. _

Maybe he'd _said _something wrong. He was always saying something wrong, but he sure as hell didn't do nothing wrong. He'd started on the roof, done what he could to help Carol with that fuckin' horse and made one lousy fuckin' comment.

Were they gonna crucify him for it?

"Look I didn't _do _nothing," he bit back over his shoulder, still walking away.

"Son, stop." And that was the last straw. He whirled around; face in Dale's and didn't stop that anger from boiling over this time.

"_Don't fuckin' call me that_," he spat in Dale's face, clenching his hands at his sides before he did something with them that he would regret. Dale's eyes were wide and he put his hands up, and Daryl turned away before he got the urge to do something that Merle would a been proud of.

"I'm sorry Daryl I didn't mean to imply anything. It's just that Carol's upset, been talking about letting Outlaw go free." He stopped in his tracks. Let the horse go free? Let that horse, that had been _chained_ to the wall go _free_? He didn't say anything but he waited for Dale to continue.

Would she really let it go?

"I don't know if you said anything to her to start that or what. But whether ya did or didn't, doesn't much matter I guess," he trailed off. Daryl glanced over his shoulder, interest piqued against his better judgment.

"Why?" he asked, keeping the curiosity out of his voice. Why couldn't she let the damn horse go? Why couldn't it be _free_?

Dale looked back at the house, his face grim.

"She can't let that horse go," Dale said desperately, lips pinched together tightly. "Ed will _kill _her if he comes back to find Outlaw gone. He was the one who bought him to begin with. Outlaw is _Ed's _and always will be."

Daryl felt a trickle of hate simmer low in his belly and he turned to face Dale, shoulders curling in. He was starting to regret taking on this job suddenly. Starting to hate it with every muscle in his body.

"Just a horse," he said. Because it was. Weren't like the damn thing was gonna do them any damn good right now anyhow. Damn beast wouldn't let nobody touch it, or go near it. Hell, he was surprised Carol hadn't gotten a kick to the face earlier. He'd almost feared she would. She'd come so close to getting hurt.

Dale had a look of regret on his face. "Not just a horse I'm afraid. And it's not Carol's decision to make in the end. Everything on this farm belongs to Ed," he said, his voice catching at the end. Daryl caught his eyes and flinched. There was a look of _sadness _and _pity _in them that he wished he hadn't seen it.

"_Everything_," he said one more time as his eyes held Daryl's and then he walked away.

Daryl didn't like what that implied or the way it made his chest clench.

**XXX**

He took that first drag on the cigarette, his eyes lowering in content as the ashy taste filled his lungs gratifyingly. He'd been waiting for this shit _all _damn day. He sighed, watching the smoke curl around his head. Was a long day, the _first _day, and he was already ready to get the hell out of dodge. Put the cigarette to his lips, and breathed in, watching the tip glow bright red, the cherry color reminding him painfully of his Ma.

He leaned back in the lawn chair he'd found tucked in the back of the tool shed, covered in cob webs and exhaled, watching the smoke drift around him.

If every day were gonna be as eventful as this one, he was gonna have to figure out where to buy more smokes. He didn't think he was gonna last on the two packs he'd come with.

A shadow to the left had him leaning forward but he stopped, and smirked. A cat slinked out, wide blue eyes peering up at him, tail swishing languidly.

"Hell you want?" It walked toward him, _glided _really. Cats were fuckin' weird like that. All graceful and shit, but demonic lookin' at the same time.

It sat at his heels and looked up at him, letting out a meow as it cocked its head to the side. It was tan and grey at the same time. He didn't know what cats were, didn't matter much. He weren't a cat person. But animals had always been a him person. Merle liked to make fun of him for that.

_Cos you the sweet one baby brother, an' they know it. _

Merle might a been right about somethin'.

"I don't want ya," he murmured as he reached down slowly, to see if it'd let him pet it. It reached forward, hesitant and sniffed his hand.

He flinched as a loud _snap _echoed across the yard, scaring the cat off, and sending his cigarette rolling across the ground. He looked up to see the little girl, Sophia, running across the yard towards the stable.

He bent over to the pick up his cigarette and waited a moment, to see if Carol would follow. He saw a shape through the kitchen window for a moment, and then it was gone.

"The hell?" He stood up, his curiosity gettin' the better of him and he walked to the stables. His skin crawled at the sound of the horses inside but he kept walking.

He circled around, and peered inside. He didn't see nothin' and he was about to walk away when he heard a voice sift through the air.

"It won't ever stop."

Daryl felt something tug at him in two directions. One told him to walk away because he shouldn't be doing what could be seen as eavesdropping. But the other wanted to know what the hell was going on.

"Bluebird," he heard, and felt his heart drop. She had to be talking to one of the horses, which meant one of them was named Bluebird.

What were the fucking _chances _of that?

He should have walked away when he had the chance. He should have stayed in the town before this one. He should have turned tail when Andrea had that look on her face when she told him about this place.

He should have just stayed in fucking Georgia.

"Why would he take Sky away Blue? Mama loves Sky," he could hear the tears in her voice as he leaned up against the wall, pulling on his cigarette. He looked up to the sky, watching as the stars blinked in and out of view.

Least the dark was different out here. Least the sounds were different out here. Least he didn't have to worry about Merle comin' in to his room at night, higher than a kite lookin' to let off some steam, or his ol' man lookin' to take his anger out on somebody.

Least here, he was _free_.

"He just _hurts _Mama Blue," she sobbed, and he knew he shouldn't a been there listening to her. Wasn't his place and it sure as hell weren't right.

He dropped the cigarette and crushed it with his heel before walking away.

He was gonna have to find a way to avoid all this drama and just focus on the work. That was all he came here for. To get away from _his_ fucked up life, and to find some work. Maybe live out the rest of his pathetic life without all the trouble. He just wanted it to be _simple_.

Weren't nothing wrong with that, were there. Wantin' something simple. Yeah he felt bad for this lady and her kid, but did that mean he had to do something about it? Did it have to be his mission to take care of all the fucked up kids in the world? Did he have to be everybody's goddamn hero?

"Fuck." He didn't come here to get caught up in somebody else's shit. He left his own troubles behind because he was _done _with that.

He walked back to the cabin. He just needed to try and sleep. Forget. For a few fuckin' hours he'd just forget.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, massaging his eyes. He'd figure out a way to make tomorrow simple.

* * *

**A/N**: No but seriously I'm thinking this next chapter Carol and Daryl will finally be having their time together. Thanks for being here you guys and to my Guest Reviewers as well. I know you all take time to leave reviews behind when you don't have too and that means a shit ton to me.

I leave you my love this time!


	6. Something Right

**Noxi**: Thank you to _everyone _who gave me names to choose from for the dappled grey. I decided to go with Tumblr user **southward-whatever**'s. Thank you! In the end, y'all are gonna hate me for it anyway, haha. And I love you guys for all of the support and love. I mean, you are the ones who motivate me to write each chapter as fast as I can. Thank you so much for coming back here. I'm sorry if I didn't respond to your reviews last time! I promise I will get to you all because they mean so much to me! I've just been a little busy. Enjoy!

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Something Right

She lay in bed, the gray morning peaking in through the curtains, tugging at her. She needed to get up. She had to take a shower, she had to milk Nettie, she had to start breakfast.

_Breakfast_.

Daryl would be needing breakfast now. He'd need meals every day now. She wondered what it was that he liked to eat. Did he like eggs? Did he like bacon or sausage? Would he want toast, and would he want jam or butter?

How did he take his coffee? That was a whole separate matter. She knew how she felt about her coffee, and she didn't like anyone to mess it up. Ed had always been rigid about his. One spoon of sugar, with a touch of cream - _if _he let her make it. But most often he didn't let her. He made his own coffee. And sometimes, she was okay with that. She waited on him hand and foot, worked so hard to keep him happy with the farm that if she messed up his coffee she was afraid that one more thing to add to that mess of a plate and she wouldn't last.

She tossed her arm across her eyes, pushing off the day just a little more.

Yesterday had been a disaster. Rick had come over to ask her questions. She didn't think it was possible to be more upset than she had been when she'd found out Sky was gone, but she had almost reached that point. She'd almost broken down right there in his arms.

"_Carol." She was looking outside the window, watching Daryl work around on the roof when Rick came in. Daryl tossed the shingles over his shoulder onto the ground and from time to time he would stand up and wipe the sweat from his skin. _

_It was comforting to watch him work. It was methodical even if she wasn't doing anything. He probably wouldn't appreciate her watching, but it kept her from throwing the dishes across the kitchen, or from digging her fingers into her skin, drawing bloody lines. It kept her from screaming until her throat was raw. _

"_Carol," he started again, and then the silence pushed at her from behind, heavy. She could feel his gaze on her, _judging_. Rick was a good man, Lori a good friend to her and his son Carl was a good friend to Sophia but right now she just wished he would walk away. She wished he weren't the damn Sheriff. _

"_What do you want Rick?" her shoulders curled in further at the sound of her own voice coming out hoarse. She'd been crying since she'd left Outlaw out there in the field, and she hadn't been able to stop. Only when she started watching Daryl did her tears slow. _

_She listened to the sound of his boots tread across her floor, each step louder than the last, until she felt his hand rest hesitantly on her shoulder._

_Carol closed her eyes slowly, blocking out the image of Daryl, and breathed deep. The weight of his hand was supposed to be a comfort. _

"_I'm sorry for what happened Carol," he whispered softly to her, removing his hand and leaning against the counter next to her, setting his hat down. She glanced at him to see him run a hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes. _

_She couldn't stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks silently. _

"_What is it Rick?" she whispered on a half-sob, dreading the news he had surely brought her. She knew Rick hadn't come here for a social call just to check up on her, though he probably would have. He was a good man like that. _

_His eyes found hers, and she knew she didn't want to hear it. _

"_Just tell me," she whispered, nails digging into her skin. He took a deep breath and exhaled. _

"_Sasha's pretty sure she found Ed." Her lungs closed up. That's what if felt like. She couldn't breathe, and she tried to wrap her mind around the concept. They'd found Ed. _

_No, Sasha had found Ed. She had always been the best one at that investigating stuff. She had a knack for finding people, tracking them down, knowing when they used credit cards. She had connections that expanded to the cities around them. _

_And right now Carol wasn't sure if she should be grateful for that or not. _

"_Where?" Rick reached out and placed his hand over hers. She hadn't realized she was gripping the sink, or that her knuckles were hurting. Rick didn't answer right away. He just squeezed her fingers softly as if trying to reassure her, peeling her fingers back from the cheap plastic. _

"_We think he's gone to Riverrun."_

The tears slipped down her cheeks, and her heart was a lead weight in her chest. She curled onto her side, burying her face into her pillow. Riverrun was the nearest local auction house.

Ed had gone to _sell _Sky. He'd taken her horse and run off with him, as if he were the problem. Sky hadn't ever done anything wrong. He'd done nothing but treat her right and give her unconditional love. And now?

She would lose him forever. All because _she _was the problem.

"_H-how did you find him? How did you _know?_" She could barely stay on her feet, and Rick guided her to the chair. She slumped, cradling her head in her hands, fighting to breathe. _

"_Dale came to us. Told us that Ed had taken Sky Dancer but that he didn't know where, or what he was going to do. Sasha started checking his credit card, and local venues, and the auction houses. She didn't want to leave any stone unturned." Carol had never felt more grateful to the woman than now. She couldn't imagine what kind of trouble Shane was giving her but she knew she was going to have to go down there and thank her, somehow. She'd always been the one to use her education right. _

"_And then his name showed up on the registered list. He didn't go far Carol. We've contacted the local authorities to see if they'll help us out because we can't infringe on their territory."_

_She felt the pressure lift from her chest for a moment and she grabbed hold of Rick's hand, squeezing it tightly. _

"_So then maybe-" It was like Ed had grabbed her around the neck, cutting off her ability to breathe and her ability to talk. The weight crashed down on her chest like a brick. _

"_It doesn't matter," she whispered, pulling her hand away from his like it was acid. There was nothing that _anyone _could do. This was the life she led, and she had to accept that. No matter how badly it hurt, no matter how much she wanted to scream and rage and throw him to the wolves. This was what she had. This was her _life.

"_What? Carol, Ed's not but two towns over." As if that was going to solve everything. Maybe for him it seemed that simple. _

"_Sky Dancer's in _his _name, Rick. Not mine." She looked up, Rick a blur through her tears. "He can do whatever he wants with him," she murmured, fighting back the urge to sob into his arms. _

"_Carol-" but she cut him off. She didn't want him here, didn't want his pity, didn't want his false hope. She just wanted to be left alone. _

"_Just go away," she whispered, and turned from him as the sobs wracked her frame. _

She wouldn't ever get Sky back. He was gone for good, for wherever Ed sold him too. She rolled over, quick and let her feet hit the floor. She jumped out of the bed and looked out the window, letting her eyes fall to the pasture. She'd let Outlaw stay there for the night.

She didn't have the heart to stuff him back into a stall after she'd taken him out of that shed. And now, watching as he stared off at the mountains, she didn't regret that decision. He shook himself, flicking his tail, throwing his head back.

She rubbed her arms, the after-night chill just starting to fade away as the sun crept over the mountains when she caught sight of a figure by the fence. She panicked for a moment until she realized who it was.

Daryl stood there, arms resting against the post, eyes to the horizon. She'd never seen anyone up as early as her before, and it was eerily calming to watch his solid back.

And then he turned, and she was caught as his eyes tracked the land and the house until he looked up at her window, finding her. He froze for a moment, watching her. She fingered the cross at her neck, swallowing heavily.

A swash of sunlight, the first one of the day, speared over the mountain and across the pasture and highlighted his still body. She couldn't stop from staring at the rise and fall of his chest, or the way he gripped the fence post next to him.

He looked cleaner than before, with a fresh shirt, his hair tousled from sleep, and surprisingly, no shoes. As their gazes met, he stuffed his hands into pockets and he ducked his head briefly before bringing it back up to look at her again.

But it was the way her chest expanded, lightened, and fluttered that made her turn away and escape to the shower, the water turned hot enough to burn her skin.

To burn away _everything_.

**XXX**

She felt better for the shower, and some clean clothes. It cleared her head of things that were lost and things she shouldn't be thinking about. The smell of the sausage was filling the kitchen and should have brought Sophia down the hallway. Carol filled a plate of eggs, toast and sausage for her, a meager breakfast she had to admit but wasn't up to much cooking this morning.

"Sophia?" she called down the hallway, standing at the doorway, waiting to hear her call back or her feet hit the floor. She frowned when she heard nothing and went down the hallway toward her room to investigate.

She pushed her door open. Sophia's walls were scattered with pictures of horses and several faces she only recognized by titles. One was a national jumper, the other a world renowned racer. She went inside and found the bed tousled but unslept in. A sliver of panic went through her, but she tried to stifle it. She was probably just in the stable with Bluebird. She turned to leave, but stopped when something caught her eye. Sophia kept two pictures in her room; one of her and Bluebird, and the other one Carol was happy to always see was of them both. She tucked the cream bedsheets down, out of habit and then reached beneath the pillow and pulled out a worn photo.

She bit her lip to stop the fresh set of tears from overwhelming her.

She sat down on her bed, clutching the picture, wrinkling the faded edges.

It was her, several years younger, her hair still long and her face not yet worn by this life. And she was standing with the very first horse she had ever loved.

_Starling_.

She was a dappled grey with a white mane. Her white spots so much like the stars in the sky. She was beautiful. She was young and she was fiercely loyal to her. Starling had loved the freedom of the pasture and she loved the freedom of bareback riding. She was the very first that Carol had ever taken into her life.

And she was the first one Carol had _lost. _

Tears dripped onto the picture, the image blurring. She stuffed the picture back under Sophia's pillow and left the room quickly, brushing the tears from her eyes. She ran out of the house, and nearly ran into Dale.

"Carol-" she just pointed to the house, gesturing for him to go inside, hoping he wouldn't follow her. She crossed the yard, and couldn't help but glance toward the cabin.

Daryl was sitting in an old folding chair, fiddling with something in his hands, watching her. Her feet slowed as she took in the steady rise of his chest, and the way his hands moved rhythmically in his lap. He wasn't just playing with something, his hands moving with a purpose. And then she found his eyes, steady on her.

She swallowed hard and took off again. She needed the shelter of the stable, she needed to find Sophia and tell her that everything would be okay. She needed to remind _herself_.

She needed to escape those eyes.

The smell of the stable greeted her first, and sent a warmth of comfort through her. She heard Nettle groan at her approach, and with each step closer to Bluebird's stall the weight began to lift from her shoulders.

Even if the world came crashing down around her at least she would have the comfort of this place, the smell, the warmth, the sounds. Even if she had nothing, she would have Sophia.

Bluebird's head appeared and she walked a little faster. When she peered into the stall she breathed a sigh of relief. Sophia was curled in the hay that'd fallen to the floor, and Bluebird shuffled next to her carefully.

Carol walked in softly, rubbing Bluebird as she went. Sophia had been upset last night. She knew that when she'd told Sophia that Sky was at the auction house. She could see it in her face when she'd told Sophia that Ed was the one who'd taken Sky. And there was nothing she felt she could do as she watched her daughter's back as she burst out the front door to find solace in the one friend she could talk to anything about.

Carol wasn't going to take that away from her. She would have given _anything _to see Sky right then.

Blue nuzzled her neck, snorting, her warm breath rushing across her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it was Sky.

"Did you keep her safe Blue?" she whispered, rubbing her hands along her neck, breathing in the scent of hay and leather, wood. "We need to get you outside Blue," she murmured, running her hands along her shoulders and down her flank. Bluebird shook her head, stamping her hoof.

Sophia stirred, curling into herself. Carol bent down, running her hand over Sophia's hair, across her cheek.

If there was anything she should be grateful for, it was right here in front of her.

"Mom?" She smiled.

"Hey baby," she crooned, helping Sophia to stand. Sophia looked around, rubbing at her eyes and then froze.

"I'm so sorry Mom, I didn't mean, I meant to-" but Carol just quieted her and rubbed her shoulders.

"Dale's inside with breakfast. Why don't you join him." She brushed Sophia's hair behind her ear as she watched her daughter's face twist up in confusion. The wrinkle between her brow was so much like Ed's and she hated it.

"Mom, the new guy…" she trailed off, her questioning gaze holding her own. She sighed, and steered her by the shoulders out of the stall and out of the stables.

"Daryl, sweetie. His name is Daryl." Sophia was silent a moment, leaning into Carol.

"Is he…" she didn't seem able to finish but Carol knew where she going. Daryl didn't look like the right type to hire. He didn't look like he came from much, and it looked as if his life was a hard one. That could say a lot about a person. She could already see the way he shifted nervously about her, and Dale. The way he picked at his clothes and his nails. He was skittish, like a mistreated horse.

But that was the beauty of a person. Beneath all the layers of dirt and grime and filth there might be a diamond. People were weighed down by things that nobody else could see. She knew that first hand. How many times had she hid the pain of what Ed had done to her so deep inside that it had started to affect how she acted around others. She knew this, but how did she change it?

She couldn't see someone's anger and not think they weren't going to hit her. How did she separate it? How did look at a man and _not _see Ed? She grabbed Sophia's face gently and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

Maybe Daryl wasn't so different.

"I think so baby," she whispered, hugging her tightly. Sophia's arms wrapped around her, squeezing.

"Let's go inside."

**XXX**

"I'll tell him Carol. It's really not that big of a deal." She finished the rest of the sausage and eggs and poured them onto the waiting plate. Dale sat at the table, coffee in hand. They'd been discussing the workload, who would do what now that Ed had taken off with Sky. It had taken all of her willpower not to burst into tears again but she didn't. She couldn't keep crying over it, no matter how much it hurt. There was too much work to be done now that they were short of hands.

She poured a cup of coffee, looking out the window as the sun lit up the pasture, the grass a wash of green and gold. She didn't know if she should add cream or sugar. He didn't seem like a sweets kind of person.

She sighed, adding a little sugar to the coffee and stirring it. The toast popped and she pulled them, spreading butter over them both.

"It's fine Dale. You said the shipment was in your truck right?" She glanced over her shoulder to catch Dale's nod as he sipped his coffee.

"Mom, do I have to go to school today?" Carol took a breath and turned, leaning against the counter.

As much as she knew Sophia had to go to school, today she just didn't feel up to making her go. Why, after everything that had happened, should Sophia have to go to school and deal with that?

Perhaps she was giving her an out, but if she couldn't take a day off of work then she could at least give _someone_ a free pass.

"No," she said watching a smile spread across Sophia's face. "_But _you have to brush down Bluebird, clean out her stall, and take her out to pasture. You know I've got Outlaw settled out there right?" Sophia nodded, finishing the rest of her milk.

"He'll be okay with Blue mom. Blue's gentle with everyone." She laughed a little. Blue was also a little too playful. She was young, not yet quite a mare. She still had that urge to rile everyone up.

"Just keep an eye on them, okay? And if you have trouble you call out, ya hear?" Sophia rolled her eyes, and got up from the table, throwing her plate in the sink.

"I know mom, I know," she murmured. Sophia hugged her quickly before dashing down the hallway.

Carol sighed, and picked up her cup, placing it in the sink as well. She eyed the plate she had made for Daryl and realized if she didn't take it out there now it would be cold. Cold eggs were gross and she was just wasting time because she was nervous.

"I can talk to him Carol," Dale said once more, sensing her hesitancy.

She shook her head and picked up the plate and coffee. "I'll do it," she said softly. "But I'll send him over to you once he's done eating okay? I think we should just give him the time to adjust into the work for now." Dale was nodding absently as she walked out the door.

She was only bringing him breakfast. She didn't know why she was so nervous.

**XXX**

It got awkward. The longer she stood there, holding out the food like a talisman between them, the more she wished she'd never come out here.

She watched as his face grew more alarmed the closer she got. And that sent her heart into a panic. They were going to have to initiate conversation, get more comfortable around each other eventually. If he was going to work here, it was only time and patience, and _willingness_ that would see to that.

"Breakfast," she said quietly, holding it out toward him. His eyes flicked up to hers, then glanced back down at the plate. She watched his throat bob as he licked his lips, eyeing the food appreciatively.

"Don't want it," he mumbled. It was clear that he did, she just didn't know _why _he wasn't taking it. He went back to what she had seen him doing earlier and could now identify – he was whittling. It wasn't anything special and he didn't bother to keep his eyes on the piece either. He just let his hands maneuver the small knife across the block of wood like he'd been doing it his whole life.

And maybe he had. It was mesmerizing to watch – both the action and his hands. She could see that his hands were weathered from years of a hard life doing god knows what she could only imagine. His nails were bitten down, and there was a filth etched into his skin that came from years of hard work. That was how the whole of him looked now that she stood there long enough to take all of him in.

There was a darkness to his skin, more than just being weathered by sun and age and the elements. She didn't miss the fine scars that littered the backs of his hands, or the long jagged one that traveled up his forearm and disappeared under his sleeve. She felt a lump of understanding sit hard in her stomach. Those weren't done by accident. Those were purposeful.

"Hell you lookin' at?" She flinched, felt the flush crawl up her neck. She found his blue eyes, hard and unyielding.

"I'll just leave it here," she said with a quiver in her voice that she tried to quell. She couldn't believe she'd been caught staring. She set the plate at his feet, balancing the coffee on the step. She played with the cross at ther neck, knowing she couldn't leave yet, feeling the weight of her embarrassment sit heavy between them.

"Said I don't want it," he barked, standing up and letting the wood fall to the chair behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest, stepped further away from her putting some distance between them.

"I told you yesterday," she said, hoping to placate his nerves. She didn't want him to be upset, didn't need for both of them to be. "It's just what I do," she tapered off, looking away. What she'd always done. Housewife, horse-whisperer, cattle-driver and whatever else was needed. She did _everything _around here. She was running herself ragged.

He shifted on his feet, biting at the skin of his nail.

"When you're done eating you can just leave the dishes here. I'll come by later to pick them up." She waited for him to say anything, if he would. When he just continued to stare at her with those blue eyes that made it hard for her to breathe she just continued on. "I'll talk to you later about what you'll be doing on the farm. For now, Dale brought in a shipment of feed from the Greene's that he needs help unloading into the stables. It's heavy work, a lot feed." He was staring at her. It was making her nervous and it left her uncomfortable.

"So?" She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

"Well, I just wanted to be sure…" He took a step toward her, body tensed.

"Sure that I ain't gonna pussy out cos the work's a little hard?" He scoffed, waving his hand across the air.

"You think I'm gonna get scared off by work an' a little family _dispute_? Ya think I ain't seen my own share a shitty problems?" he yelled back, face pinching in disgust.

She couldn't help the way her chest clenched, or her eyes burned. She backed up several steps, away from his anger, and curled her arms around her body.

It was _her _fault for making him angry. It was her fault for putting that pressure on him. She should have just let Dale handle this. Instead of trying to act like this farm was hers. Instead of pretending that she could handle it.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and turned away before he had a chance to see the self-hatred on her face and mistake it for something else.

**XXX**

She wasn't going to admit that watching Daryl work and sweat while hauling the feed from the truck and to the stable was fascinating, despite what had happened earlier.

She couldn't stop watching the way he lifted each of the stacks of hay over his head, hauling each one into the stables, his arms straining with the weight. Ed had never looked so…_invested_ in his work. Ed had never given such a damn before. Ed had never _cared _about his work. Daryl put everything he had into. Dale showed him an easier way to grip the stack of hay, and Daryl didn't bite back at him for it. He just nodded his head, and followed his instructions. Dale offered him up a pair of gloves to protect his hands, and Daryl declined. When he buckled beneath the weight of the hay in surprise the first time, and he tossed it over his shoulder, muscles straining against the odd bundle she had to turn away.

Everything about him was different than she had ever known in her life. He was the complete opposite of Ed and that made her nervous. She was so used to Ed giving up half-way, and having to pick up the slack behind him. She was always trying to find ways and _time _to finish what he never did.

What was it going to be like with a man around who could handle the work _and _was a fast learner? Henry had always been willing to do the work, and never put up a fight about it. But he was young, and he was always looking for fun. She liked Henry. He was a good kid. But he wasn't what this farm had needed.

She was brushing down Molly and watching as Dale explained to him a few different set of tools they kept around the farm, some of the horse equipment, the cattle prods and what went where. He'd come to her while Daryl was unloading the last of the hay and asked what she'd wanted with him. Horses or to get to know the place better first.

She didn't feel up to showing him the horses just yet, didn't feel up to testing that line within her. And she wasn't sure she was ready to help him _face _the horses yet. She could see his hesitancy around them. He was nervous around them, skittish, wide-eyed. She merely mentioned them and he got quiet, started fidgeting with his hands and clothes.

She wondered where he came from if he'd never been around horses before. She'd never met anyone in Montana who hadn't been around horses at least once before. The drawl he let slip on occasion suggested he came from the south. But if that was the case he was a long way from home.

_Maybe it's not home anymore_ she thought.

"Enough Carol," she said to herself, feeling like she was doing a wrong. She shouldn't be wondering into his past. That was his business, and if he decided to share it then he would. Though she doubted it. It wasn't as if they were friends.

It wasn't as if she was just going to offer up her _own _past.

Molly flicked her tail at Carol and she laughed.

"Alright girl," she said patting her side, running the brush across her shoulder, and down her back. "It's all about you, I know," she sweet talked, the smile slipping from her face.

She was never going to get over it. Nothing was never _not _going to remind her of Sky. Every flick of a tail, every snort against her skin, every time she pressed her face into Molly's neck it wasn't the _same_.

She was going to have to find a way to accept it, to work through it. But she would never get over it. Ed had taken Sky from her and that would forever be between them. She didn't know how she was going to face him now when all she wanted to do was strangle him.

"Breathe Carol," she whispered to herself. "_Keep __steady__ my steps according to your promise, and let no iniquity get dominion over me_," she quoted, closing her eyes, resting her head against Molly's side. Molly waited patiently.

Until the sound of car tires had both their heads turning. Carol watched as Lori and Carl got out.

"Carl, we won't be long," Lori called, shading the sun from her eyes and watching as Carl ran off to find Sophia.

"I know mom," he called back, the exasperation clear in his voice. She smiled, and waved Lori over.

"Hey honey," she said comfortingly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. She felt her chest tighten and let Lori's arms hold her close, briefly, before she pulled away.

"I'm so sorry." She swallowed the tears back. She should have known Lori would have cut right to the sympathy. It was sweet and it was nice of her to stop by, but right now she was only trying to get passed those feelings. Lori rubbed her shoulder affectionately, and she bit her lip to hide the wince as the pain shot down her arm.

"How're you doin'?" She shrugged, passing the brush over to Lori. She took it without question and started on Molly's other side while Carol started to braid a small part of Molly's mane.

"I'm fine," she said, with as much enthusiasm as she could. She peeked over Molly's back to find Lori's brow quirked. They stared at each other a moment and then she started laughing.

Lori chuckled for a moment, watching as her laughter turned to tears.

"Oh sweetie, you're doing the best you can," she said warmly, reaching over to clutch Carol's hand. Carol choked on a sob through her laugh as she gripped Lori's hand back. "If I had been you, I might have taken a cattle prod to the man a _long _time ago," she said with a look, pursing her lips, breaking eye contact with Carol.

But what Lori didn't know was that Carol _wished _she had done something like that. She wished a thousand times over that she was as strong as Lori was. She wished she could tell Ed to stop hitting her or she would call the police. That if he didn't start taking care of more duties around the farm that she would leave him. That if he didn't treat her better she would _hurt him back_.

But she couldn't. She couldn't hurt someone like that. She couldn't imagine laying on a hand on Ed no matter how many times he had smacked her across the face, or pushed her against the wall, or threatened her life.

She just couldn't do it.

"Enough about that ass," Lori said and stopped brushing. "Tell me about your new ranch-hand." Carol could tell by the arch of her brows and the tone of her voice that she was both intrigued and worried.

She glanced behind her, and saw that Dale was taking him to the back pasture where the cattle grazed. She couldn't place why, and she didn't want to think about it, but he chose that moment to glance at them both. She held his gaze for a moment longer than she should have.

"Carol?"

"Daryl," she said, turning back to Lori, "his name's Daryl. He showed up the other day looking for work. He's been real…_quiet_."

"Uh-huh," Lori responded doubtfully, a smile working up her lips. Carol sighed and grabbed Molly's rein.

"He is Lori. He hardly talks, and I think he's scared of me. _Me_," she said exasperated. "What am I gonna do, yell at him?" Lori tried to stifle a giggle, and Carol smiled a little. No one had _ever _been afraid of her and she certainly didn't have the heart to yell.

She guided Molly to the pasture where she let her go, watching as the chestnut mare kept a fair distance from Outlaw. Lori seemed to take notice of this as well.

"How's your new _stallion_ doing?" She sighed, watching as Outlaw kept to the rim of the fence, closest to the mountains, farthest from her and the other horses. She didn't have the heart to place him back in the stall and she couldn't keep the others cooped up for the day. And it wasn't like she had unlimited free space for them to roam. She trusted her horses, but she did fear for their safety.

"He's fearful. He doesn't trust anyone, and he's hurting – inside. He's been mistreated and I can't blame him for taking that out on the world." She watched him, the pain in her chest expanding. She wanted to give Outlaw the time and care that he needed. She wanted to _love _him. If she were honest, she already did. There was a gentleness in his eyes that she could see when he looked at her. He wanted to trust her, but he just couldn't. There was too much pain in his past that he couldn't get through. He couldn't trust her outstretched hands, or her calm voice. Not yet.

And the minute Ed came back home things would go back to the way they were. And they'd probably get worse. He'd see the freedom she'd let the horses have, that _Outlaw _had had, and he'd punish her. He'd probably punish them all.

She brushed at the tears on her cheeks, hating herself for being so weak.

"He's already taken Sky away from me Lori," she muttered, hugging herself tight. "I can't let him hurt the others."

Lori's arm circled around hers, her head leaning against hers. "I know," and it wasn't going to change anything, it wouldn't do anything to help her. But it was nice to know that Lori was still her friend despite what she let Ed get away with. It kept her going knowing that no matter how bad of a person she was for allowing Ed to do all of those things, Lori would still be her friend. "I know," Lori echoed, pulling her tighter.

"Look," she said, pushing away, her hand still on her elbow, "Rick and Sasha pulled a late night. They're talking to the other Sheriff's. Talking with the auctioneers." Carol shook her head.

She couldn't allow herself to be pulled into that hope again. Ed always found a way to get what he wanted. She knew that, knew she couldn't think anything otherwise.

"It doesn't matter Lori," she walked away from the hope in Lori's face before she made the mistake of letting herself believe. "Ed always gets what he wants."

"Carol!" Carol kept walking away, before the pain of that admission consumed her.

"Thank you for stopping by. It means a lot to me," she called out, leaving Lori behind.

She couldn't let herself grab onto that branch of hope. Or else she would fall again, the branch snapping under her weight. And the next time, she might not get back up again. That fall might break her.

**XXX**

Sophia and Dale were laughing about something at the table but she couldn't stop staring out the window. She couldn't stop staring at Daryl.

She'd taken him dinner, and he didn't put up a fuss about it this time. But he didn't take it from her hand either. She'd set it down at his feet, while he sat there silently. She met his blue eyes with her own and for a moment she wanted to tell him that he'd done good today, that he'd adapted to his first day well. But it fell flat on her lips, and suddenly she felt awkward. The longer she stood there, the more she felt wrong for being there.

Now, he sat out there whittling that wood again, and she could see he was smoking.

She didn't mind it, and for some reason, she wasn't surprised by it either. It was just odd to see a man sitting by the cabin, smoking and whittling. Ed never sat on the porch. He always sat in the kitchen, and he always drank.

"Mom?"

"Hm?" She turned to find Dale and Sophia staring at her, questioning looks on their faces.

"I asked if I could stay home tomorrow too," Sophia tried, her face eager. Carol didn't blame her, but one day was enough.

"It's Friday sweetheart. You can finish up the week." She couldn't stop her smile at Sophia's groan.

"But mom," she whined, and Carol just shook her head.

"No buts. Get ready for bed okay?" She kissed her head, and pushed her off, watching her slump for effort down the hall. Dale laughed behind her.

"She's been strong," Dale commented. She could tell he was fishing, really asking about how she was doing. But she wasn't in the mood to talk about it anymore.

"Goodnight Dale," she murmured as she kissed his cheek.

He chuckled. "Alright Carol," and he walked out, heading back to his Winnebago. One day she'd convince him to find a house, or to let her fix up one up the sheds for him. She would.

She saw the pile of dishes in the sink and knew she needed to wash them. But instead she was walking out the door, her feet carrying her back to the cabin. And she told herself it was just because she needed his dishes. She told herself it wasn't because she was interested to know what he was doing.

She watched him shift in the chair as she approached, putting out the cigarette.

"You don't have to do that," she called, hating that he'd stop on her account. She didn't want to him to think he couldn't do anything around here like it was a prison. At least, it wasn't _his _prison.

"I don't mind if you do that," she continued, getting closer. And the closer she got, the more he curled into himself. The tighter his muscles coiled, and he chewed his bottom lip.

"As long as it's not around the animals that is." She tried for a smile but he didn't respond. And suddenly she felt that creeping awkward silence fall between them again. She wanted to say something more, but it didn't seem like he wanted her around.

She couldn't blame him.

She bit her cheek, to stop that sadness from welling up inside her and picked up his dishes and turned around, prepared to take that long walk with his gaze burning a hole into her back.

"Thanks." She froze at the sound of his gravelly drawl slipping over her, hitting a soft place within her. She liked the way that drawl sounded in her ears. It wasn't what they normally had up here. She turned on her heel, slowed at the last second, and swallowed.

"What?" He nodded at her hands and she looked down, blinked.

"Don't have to cook. Can fend for myself. Been doin' that mah whole life," he offered softly, looking away sheepishly. And she realized suddenly that he had just given her a small measure of who he was. Small maybe, but indefinably _there_. And she almost staggered back. He had done the same thing earlier, when he had yelled at her. He had said that he'd had a shitty life as well.

He'd fended for himself and he'd dealt with his own kind of hurt. Whatever it was, it was enough for him to respond to _her _kind of pain. He was willing to walk around her life and say it wasn't going to scare him away. It said enough about him for her to wonder just what he'd been through. It made her wonder at the scars on his hand, and if there were more than she could see. He was trying. It was small, but she would take.

She smiled softly, pulling the dirty dishes to her chest.

"It was a part of your offer to work here. And I like to cook, as long as you like it." She waited to see if he would argue her cooking, but he just shrugged his shoulders, ducking his head. His hands were still for a moment, as he sat there, blue eyes hidden in the shadow of his face.

"S'good," he said quietly. She felt her neck flush, and she turned away before he could see it. Though how he could see anything in the dark, she wouldn't know.

"I'm glad," she murmured back, thinking to the number of times that Ed had _never _told her that he'd liked her cooking. His voice and his words sent a sliver of warmth through her heart, and she took off feeling lighter than she had all day.

It wasn't much, but for once since everything had happened she felt like maybe she had done something right.

* * *

**A/N**: From this point on I'll be switching between Carol and Daryl's POV _within_ each chapter. It's to the point where I need to – for both myself and the story. And I really hope the Caryl movement wasn't too fast for you guys. It just sort of came out that way. I love you!


	7. The Calm

**Noxi: **So we're getting to a point where I am winging it around the cattle. What they're called, and how to care for them, and _holy shit _am I lost. Montana as well. I'm not really going to make this fic a _fact _fic, but I will try to work in as many real details as possible. They just might not be in the right way. Welcome to _my _world.

I'd just like to say thank you to _FaeriesMasquerade_ for being so wonderful.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

The Calm

"_Ya can't run forever boy." He knew that voice. Knew it like he knew the rhythm of the heart beating in his chest always giving him away. _

"_Always know when ya scared." A laugh echoed around him, sending his blood pumping through his veins, loud in his ears. It was always his damn heart, thundering away in his chest, louder than a damn freight train that did it. And the more he thought on it, the louder it got. _

"_Think I'm just gonna let ya go?" He tried to swallow, his tongue thick and his mouth dry. There was something holdin' him down and he didn't like that feelin' of helplessness that choked him._

_He opened his eyes, blinking slowly against the blur, and felt the panic seize him. _

_His old man was above him, a knee to his chest, leering down at him. The same blue eyes that he knew he carried stared back at him. Daryl _hated _him. Hated how much he _was _the old man without even havin' to do nothin'. They shared that blood and that was all it took. He talked like him, walked like him. But it was the eyes. His Ma had never been able to look him in the eyes and _not _see his old man. The same perfectly clear blue, untouched by any other color or dimension. _

_How many times had he seen them clouded by rage, or hate, or _drugs_? _

"_**Ya been marked by yer blood, baby. Ya been marked by **_**him**_**."**_

_How many times had he seen them, looking down at him like this, ready to inflict on him more pain than he was ready to handle? How many times had he wanted to cut his own eyes out in the mirror because all he could see was the old man lookin' back at him? _

"_Think I won't find ya?" He sneered down at him, teeth stained brown from years of smoking. _

_It was hard to breathe. His chest felt heavier than it should have and he couldn't move. His arms went taut with the urge to push him off but he couldn't move them neither. _

"_I'll find ya," the old man breathed above him, bringing their faces nose-to-nose. Daryl flinched, his chest still heavy with the weight, turning his head away. _

"_I always find ya boy." _

He jerked awake, breathing heavy, his chest still unexpectedly weighted down. The light streaked in through the window lighting the foot of his bed, the sheets tangled at his ankles, sweat makin' his clothes stick to him and he saw the problem.

"The hell you doin' in here?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his heart still thundering in his chest as the image of his ol' man clouded his thoughts.

The tan and gray cat from the other night was perched on his chest, eyes lidded to slits, paws curled to her chest. She didn't move as he shifted in the bed, ineffectually trying to get her off.

He raised his hand to push her off and her head snapped to watch, eyes instantly alert. He froze for a moment, unsure if she would do anything. He'd never been a cat person. The only ones he'd ever seen were scrawny ass things that were always lookin' for a meal and never wanted you to touch'em. If ya did, ya got a set a red tracks for yer trouble.

He knew a warning look when he saw one. She was comfortable where she were and she didn't want to go nowhere.

"Shit," he muttered, letting his head fall back to the bed, the nightmare beginning to fade to the back of his mind. Couldn't believe he'd been dreamin' bout the old man of all things. He came here to _escape _all that shit, to get as far away from that nightmare as he could.

"_I always find ya boy."_

Fear gripped his chest and he knew it weren't the cat weighing him down.

He could hear the old man now, as vivid as if he were right there, right now and that sent a shiver down his skin. He'd run this far just to get away from him, to get away from that voice, and his hands, and that _fear_.

"Fuck!" He tried to sit upright, the pinch on his chest knocking his thoughts loose, and he saw that the cat had dug her claws into his skin. She was watching him closely, tail flicking back and forth.

"Damn thing," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. She didn't move, even as he tried to sit up, leaning back on his elbow without much luck. She still wasn't moving.

He glanced out the window, watching the light, and realized he was up later than he wanted to be. He should have been up and movin', and chances were Carol and Dale were already.

"Can't be doin' this." Couldn't be sittin' here dwellin' on his past, and he sure as hell couldn't be sittin' here lettin' this cat get her way. She responded by purring, and retracting her claws, resting her chin against his chest. She peered up at him, her blue eyes wide and innocent suddenly.

He let the dream of his ol' man drift to the back of his mind, and pushed that fear with it, and hesitantly brushed his hand along the cat's back.

She closed her eyes contently, her purr growing louder the harder he pressed against her back.

He groaned.

"Definitely can't be doin' this."

**XXX**

"Mom, I'm gonna be late!" She turned away from Sophia's voice, trying to focus on Hershel's. Her lips were poised to say no, but something compelled her to hear him out.

"_Carol all I'm asking is that you stop by to see her. I can't hold her here. Don't have the room. If you don't take her I'll have to send her over to Freemont, and you _know _they don't take care of'em like we do." _

She bit her lip, clutching the phone tight to her ear. She couldn't take do it. It wasn't a decision she could make. It wasn't something she could do right now.

"Hershel, I don't think I'm ready for this. And if Ed comes home-"

"_Just a look." _

She sighed, all the air leaving her lungs. She couldn't do it. If Ed came home to another horse, after he'd just taken Sky to be _sold _because of _her_, she could only imagine what he would do to another one that she brought home _without _asking him about it.

"_She's beautiful Carol. Just come see her. Before I have to send her away." _

"Mom!"

"I'm on the phone Sophia!" She thrummed her fingers along the counter, staring out the window. It wasn't like they didn't have the room in the stables for another horse. And he was only asking her to come and _look _at the horse.

"_I'll see you soon then?"_

She couldn't stop the chuckle that slipped passed her lips. Hershel knew her well enough that she couldn't deny taking a peek at the horse. She loved them all, and she couldn't pass that up.

"Alright Hershel, I'll stop by. But _only _to look," she warned, feeling a weight fall over chest, dark and foreboding. Hershel laughed and said his goodbyes, hanging up.

She bowed her head, gripping the sink tight. It was the third night without Ed, without _Sky_. She knew it was only a matter of time before he came back home, trailer empty, gloating. He'd wave his winnings in her face, threaten her again, and tell her that this was how it was going to be.

This was her _life_.

She swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill again, biting her lip hard. She took a deep, steadying breath and looked up.

And saw Daryl cross the yard to Dale waiting by the stables. Dale gripped Daryl's shoulder and she watched as he shifted from underneath his grip, not returning the smile that Dale was giving.

"Mom?" She turned sharply. Sophia stood in the archway, backpack clutched to her shoulder, head cocked.

"Are you coming? Or should I call Mrs. Grimes?" She shook her head no, and picked up her purse.

"Let's go baby," she said, steering Sophia out of the house, holding her close.

**XXX**

Once he'd finally gotten the cat off, washed his face off, and put a clean shirt on he walked out.

To food on the front step.

He stopped, unsure of what to do. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. She'd told him this was how it was going to be. But he couldn't remember the last time someone had ever made _anything _for him. It'd just been him, Merle and his ol' man since his Ma had…

No. He couldn't take her food. He didn't want to be some damn charity case. Since the moment he got here that's was all it was startin' to feel like. Job opening up, people takin' him in, cookin' him food. Did he look that fuckin' bad?

Did people think he needed to be taken care of?

"Can take care of maself," he growled lowly, the cat twistin' between his legs, peering up at him. He eyed the food, his stomach growling appreciatively. He sighed.

He sat down on the step, and uncovered it, pulling the plate to his lap.

"Just food," he said quietly, starting to eat. The cat sat at his side, cleaning herself.

But it _wasn't _just the food. It was the way her hand had felt in his, soft and inviting, and the way he'd felt when she'd looked at him. He'd never felt that kind a tightening in his chest before. The way she didn't judge him or pity him just at that first look. Cos he knew what he looked like – some damn redneck piece a trash who didn't have nothin' more than the hand-me-downs on his back and the scowl on his face. He knew he weren't nothin' to look at. Ugly, warped and broken.

That's what his life had made him. He'd had to fend for his own for a long fuckin' time. How many times had he had to use the crossbow sittin' idle in the cabin just behind him so he'd have dinner or breakfast? How many times did he go without food for _days_? He'd mended his own clothes for years, learned to care for his wounds, and didn't have nobody lookin' out for him.

Ya got used to it. Ya got used to takin' care of yerself. Didn't take handouts from people. No matter how hungry he might a been. Merle taught him that ya never took handouts. Ya had to earn what ya wanted. Course, he was always the one to do the _earnin' _for both him and Merle for a long time too.

'Specially when Merle got high.

He set the plate to the side, downing the coffee.

He didn't want this to be a handout. He wanted to _earn _it. He'd work hard for the food that she provided him with. Cos that was how it worked. Ya didn't take nothing for granted.

He watched Dale walk out of the stables, a pale in his hand, walking toward the house. He figured it had to be the milk. Dale explained to him yesterday that milking the cow, _Nettle_, was going to become part of his workload. And he figured out that cows weren't any smaller than horses. One look at that thing and he was already nervous.

The little girl opened the screen door and took the pale from him, smiling and talking.

Too many things to get used to round here. Kids, home-cooked food, big animals, and _women_. He didn't have none of this shit back home. It was just him, tryin' to survive on his own, nobody there to help.

Not that he wanted any help. That was the point. He didn't _want _no help. Didn't want her cooking for him, didn't want nothing from her.

"_It's just what I do." _

Except she'd said it with that haunted look in her face, her shoulders dipping, and those green eyes darkening dangerously. How many other things did she just _do_? He knew that look. Knew what you hid in the curve of those shoulders. He'd tried to hide from the world by pulling it all in countless times.

He stood up, giving himself a shake. Weren't none of his business what she did or _didn't _do. Wasn't part of his job to think about that no matter how much he may a felt that pull. He took off, leaving the dishes behind. He was only here to work.

"Daryl!" Dale clapped him over the shoulder, smiling wide. "Good morning." He didn't want to hurt Dale's feelings, but he didn't want to give him the wrong impression either. He dipped his shoulder down, slipping away from his firm grasp as subtly as he could. Dale's hand brought up to many memories, and his fingers were to close to finding the marks on his lower neck.

He didn't need that coming out. "Mornin'," he mumbled in return.

"How're your hands?" Confused, he glanced down at his hands and realized that Dale was asking because of what he'd unloaded yesterday.

"Weren't nothin'." Dale didn't look convinced, but he started headin' for the stables anyway.

"Ya sure? I can get ya a pair of gloves to protect your hands." Daryl looked at his hands again, curling his fingers into his palms. He let them fall to his side before Dale saw the scars that littered the backs of his hands.

"Ain't nothin' I can't handle. Been workin' with my hands my whole life," he said gruffly. And it were true. He'd been doin' all kinds of jobs that left his hands calloused and hard. Construction mostly, sometimes the auto-shop. Mostly it was the crossbow that did it – the draw of the string. Some days he'd even shape his own bolts, just to keep his hands busy. But what he'd never admit was that it _wasn't _the jobs that had left the scars.

Dale nodded. "Alright then." He picked up a coil of rope, draping it over his shoulder.

"What about the stick?" He pointed to the metal stick, which looked like something easily used to hurt.

Dale glanced over his shoulder. "The hotshot?" He shook his head and walked passed Daryl. "Carol and I don't use the prod, and it's best you learn that now. Ed's the only one who's found it…_necessary _to. Cattle don't need a shock if you just tell'em what ya want."

Daryl thought about that and found he liked the idea. And if the 'hotshot'_ shocked_ the cows? Then he didn't want no part of that and he was glad they weren't neither. He may not a wanted to be around the big beasts but he sure as hell didn't want to hurt'em.

"Come on," Dale called, heading for the pasture where the cattle grazed. "Gonna show you how to talk to the cows." He didn't think talkin' to the cows was gonna get him or Dale anywhere, but he followed regardless.

**XXX**

She sat out front, watching Hershel's house. Sophia had wanted to come with her when she'd told her about it, but she couldn't miss another day.

She shouldn't go inside either. She shouldn't even _be here_. She couldn't take another horse in no matter how beautiful she was. Freemont may not have put the kind of love and dedication that she and Hershel did into their work, but they still did it right. Still took care of the livestock they had.

She watched as Maggie, Hershel's oldest daughter crossed the yard from the chicken coop. She was a beautiful girl and she was bright. And she had her trouble, just like everyone else around here.

But it didn't matter. Maggie was good to her father and she did everything she could to help him out around the farm.

"You've got your own farm to deal with," she muttered, and put the keys back in the ignition.

"Hey Carol." She jumped, letting out a squeak. She clapped a hand to her chest as her heart raced and turned to find Otis, Hershel's foreman, leaning in through the window.

"Sorry," he chuckled, his grin warm and apologetic. "Didn't mean ta scare ya." Carol sank into her seat, laughing nervously. She didn't think Otis could ever sneak up on anyone. She was really out of it.

"It's fine. I just didn't hear you is all." Otis laughed again, his frame shaking.

"Ain't like I was sneaking up on ya or nothing. Come on up," he said, gesturing her forward, stepping back from Jeep. She took one last worried glance at Hershel's house. This was her last chance to leave before she did something she wouldn't be able to take back.

Her last chance to make the better choice.

"She's just in the barn. She's damn sweet she is," he continued smiling broadly. But she wasn't really listening.

All she could think of was how many times had she made the better choice, for the sake of _Ed_? How many times had that ever done her any good? How many times had he done the same for _her_?

She breathed deep and pushed the door open, letting her keys hang in the ignition.

He'd _never _done anything for her sake. He'd always made it his mission to make sure she knew who was in charge, and who made all the decisions.

"You're gonna love her," Otis said, walking at her side, rope coiled in one hand. She just nodded, already feeling the dread slip up her spine.

"Got some work to her though," he admitted softly. She looked at Otis, confused. No one had said anything about work, though she didn't put it past Hershel to not add that in when trying to get her here.

Otis chuckled nervously, rubbing his head. "Oops. Guess Hershel didn't tell you that part. Come on," he urged.

She followed him toward the stables, her chest heavy. She was only going to _look_. That was all. Nothing more.

**XXX**

"Look so-_Daryl_." He shot Dale a warning glare as he corrected himself.

This wasn't going how either of them had planned. Daryl certainly hadn't planned on being caught in the middle of a herd of beef cattle, sweating and stinking and nervous as hell.

"You're nervous. They can sense that." He bristled. What the hell did he mean they could sense it? And how the hell did he know if he was nervous or not? Just a bunch of big, dumb animals that didn't know how to get themselves from one pasture to the next without some damn 'roundup' as Dale called it. It wasn't like at any second if they got spooked they'd all tear ass and trample him into the dirt.

"I ain't nervous," he growled back. Dale just smiled as he shifted out of the way of the one young ones that were bold enough to come jogging by him, shaking its head.

"They're just cows Daryl. Beef cattle if you want to label'em. We just raise'em to be meat." Dale watched him, and he didn't like that scrutinizing gaze. The more Dale stared, the more he wanted to scramble back over the gate and do something he was familiar with. But he couldn't chicken out now. This was what he came here to do.

_Dixons ain't no pussies_.

He grit his teeth at the familiar voice in his head. "Why don't you just stand there for a bit, get used to'em around ya while I'll tell ya a little about them?" He didn't want nobody to think he couldn't handle the work. They were just big, dumb dogs if he thought about it. One of'em was probably gonna be his burger later on.

He swallowed back the anxiety and nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Now you don't have to know anything special. Once they hit maturity they're all just cows. Ain't nothing to it. Nettle, in the barn, she's the house cow. They keep her for milk. Only one they got. Young females are heifers, young males are bulls. But they're all just calves when they're babies." Daryl nodded, letting the _calf_ mill around him, as he took in the rest of the cattle.

If he averaged right, they had about a hundred head of cattle, maybe more. Weren't much in the grand scheme of things, but when there weren't many of you to handle'em? He couldn't imagine it got easy.

"What's that-that_ number _they got on'em?" He'd noticed that plenty of'em had been marked by something that looked like a number in their ears.

"We tag them with a tattoo so they can't be stolen and for when we sell them. Tracking." Daryl glanced at Dale, skeptical. He understood tracking like he knew how to walk. But stealing? Cows? Who the hell would steal a damn cow and how the hell would they do it?

Dale laughed, making some of the cows shift away from him.

"Trust me," he said, and Daryl immediately shifted, thinking that he didn't. "People do it. The cattle industry can be a tricky business. If you don't watch your beef, someone will come along and pull a few away. People try to sell'em off, or just want them for the meat. It isn't a steady business if you're not watching your profit. Otherwise, it's really just the same thing as putting a scan code on anything in the store." Dale shrugged, leaning against the fence. Guess that made sense. Had to keep track of the shit that made ya money. Didn't want to lose none of it, and you had to have a number system to sell it.

"Plus we got wolves up here in the winter months, if we're unlucky. Winter gets to be long, and cold and especially hard. We do a lot of sitting around, watching out for the cattle, taking turns. Don't want'em to be eaten or get sick or hurt. Carol, well, she takes real good care of us in the winter." He watched as Dale's eyes took on a faraway look as he gazed into the herd of cattle.

"We had a real bad winter once; frigid winds, snow you couldn't go _anywhere _in. Was the year I lost my wife." Silence sat heavy between them and Daryl didn't know what to say as Dale twisted a ring on his finger. He hated personal shit like this. He was bad at it, bad at making people feel better. He never liked it when people tried to make him feel better so he avoided it at all costs. Pity was for the weak, and Dixons weren't weak.

He swallowed heavily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Merle made sure he _knew _that.

Dale cleared his throat roughly, and continued on. "We had more ranch-hands then, more cattle too. And every day she trekked through the snow, six feet deep on some days to bring us coffee, or hot chocolate, warm food and blankets. That was the year she'd had a broken ankle too," Dale said, trailing off, still twisting the ring on his finger.

Daryl tried to imagine Carol, all gentle limbs, hobbling through six feet of snow on crutches and in a cast, but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't imagine snow for one thing, and the moment he tried to imagine her broken foot too many memories surfaced of his own.

Broken ribs that left his side mottled, and his breathing labored. A broken wrist that left him angry and incapacitated for a week. Inflamed, throbbing wounds that wouldn't heal because they kept being reopened.

Wounds that never healed, wounds that kept reappearing because _he _put them there.

He cleared his throat, knowing the silence had gone on too long.

"Ain't never seen snow 'fore," he admitted softly, looking up at the sky, trying to forget. He couldn't imagine what it was like to see something cold, and solid fall from the sky. Couldn't imagine what that kind of cold was gonna feel like on his skin. He didn't have nothing that was gonna keep him warm once them winter months came along. He was screwed.

"I knew you were a long way from home," Dale said quietly. Daryl swallowed heavily, immediately wishing he could take back the admission. He didn't want nobody peeking into his past, didn't want them to see just what kind a person he was. If they did, he didn't think, no he _knew_ they wouldn't want him around.

Dale was watching him closely and he turned from him, hiding the shame and the pain that he could feel written on his face.

"It's alright," Dale said finally, moving into the herd, letting his words carrying over his shoulder. "Not like the cow's care who you are."

Daryl watched Dale's retreating back as he moved through the herd, and for once, he didn't feel so threatened by the comfort in those words.

**XXX**

"Ain't she beautiful?" She watched the horse with a growing ache in her heart. She had to agree with Maggie. She _was _beautiful. She was a buckskin, and Carol _loved _buckskin's. Her coat was the color of honey as her legs tapered off into the rich color of coffee. Her mane, the same rich brown color, fell well beyond her shoulder and was in need of grooming; in fact she was in need of a lot of care. She'd been badly neglected.

Carol couldn't miss the laceration across her shoulder, or the way she shied away from human contact.

Another wounded, broken animal. How many more could she possibly take in? How much more work could she take on before she justcouldn't _do it _anymore?

"How'd it happen?" She heard a heavy sigh come up behind her and she turned to find Hershel approach, carrying his medical bag.

"She was left here," he drawled, watching the mare carefully. "Owner didn't watch where he was going, caught her shoulder on some loose metal. Tore right into the poor thing. She's sweet Carol. Good-natured."

Carol didn't doubt how sweet she could be. But right now she needed a lot of care, and a lot of attention. She already had five horses, and a herd of cattle to tend to. Not to mention her growing problems with Ed.

Did she have the time to take another horse in? Would Ed _allow _it?

She berated herself. _Of course he wouldn't_. How could she be so stupid as to even think it. He'd taken Sky Dancer to be sold all because she'd made one stupid mistake. All because she'd not paid better attention.

"First time owner?" She told herself she was asking _for _the horse, for curiosity's sake. Not for any other reason.

"_One _time owner," Maggie said vehemently, walking into the pen where the mare awaited. Carol breathed deep. First time owner's either succeeded well or failed miserably and this beauty had been unlucky enough to be granted the latter. She sighed, rubbing her arms nervously. She felt for the horse, she really did.

Maggie approached her slowly, talking to her in a low voice. The mare didn't react like Outlaw would have, but her ears fell back against her head and she took several nervous steps back. She snorted heavily, her tail flicking back and forth.

"Easy girl," Maggie murmured, stepping closer, hands up.

"Does she have a name?" Hershel watched Maggie for a moment, as she got the horse to allow her to touch it, before answering her.

"Tiger Lily." Carol shouldn't have asked because the more she knew, the more connected she felt to the horse. She watched as Maggie stroked Tiger Lily, talking quietly to her, rubbing her affectionately.

"Maggie seems to have taken to her," she commented, watching Hershel from the corner of her eye.

Hershel sighed, his shoulders drawing in deep, and he shook his head. "We can't keep her. I don't have the room, and Maggie doesn't have time between school and her other work here on the farm."

Maggie turned with a glare pointed at her father, and Carol couldn't help her smile.

And the more she watched Tiger Lily, the harder she found it to make up reasons why she _couldn't _take her, the more heart pulled her to the horse. The way she stared at them all, the hurt in her eyes carried a sadness that weighed at Carol's own heart. She recognized that kind of lost hope that you didn't think could be restored. There was more to Tiger Lily's pain than just one incident.

"There's more to her than just the one wound isn't there," she said softly, watching Hershel's face for confirmation. He ducked his head, rubbing at his forehead. He drew a deep breath.

"We found a few old scars along her legs, a few more along her neck, beneath her mane. I think when she received the latest one her owner decided it wasn't worth seeing if she'd live through it." She bit back the sudden wave of tears.

How many times had she thought she wouldn't survive another one of Ed's hits, another broken bone, another night of self-hatred?

How could she say no to her? How could she deny Tiger Lily the chance at a home where she would be loved?

"I can't," she choked back on a whisper, clutching at her sides, her own stupidity hitting her hard. She could take Tiger Lily home but _would _she be loved?

Would _Ed _allow her to stay and be loved? Would Ed treat her the same way that her previous owner had? Would she only be taking Tiger Lily right back into the same cycle she was trying to escape from?

_"Why don't ya just let'im go?"_

"Carol?" She couldn't do it. She couldn't take Tiger Lily to a place where it'd only become her prison, where she'd be subjected to false hope. She couldn't trap her in a place where pain and suffering might become a part of her when she could go somewhere else and be _free_.

"_I can't_," she bit back, and turned away, before she broke down in front of them.

**XXX**

"Good," Dale remarked, watching him from across the backs of one of the cows. He was good at knots because he was good with his hands.

"Ain't nothin'," he muttered, head ducked. Weren't nothin' at all. And he was gettin' used to the cows around him too, used to feeling them brush up against him, their tails flick against him. The _lowing _as Dale said it was, didn't rattle him so much, and if he thought about it they were just meat walkin'.

They were used to people so he didn't scare'em and he liked that.

The sound of tires drew his gaze to the front where he watched the Sheriff's car pull up. Rick Grimes pulled himself out, eyes scanning the property for someone. He pulled back into himself.

"Rick!" He flinched at Dale's voice coming loud behind him, and he took a step back, rope clutched tightly in his hands, knot forgotten.

Rick waved at them, and started in their direction.

"You can, uh, go take a break if you want," Dale said hesitantly, watching him.

"What?" Dale nodded toward his hands and he looked down, realizing he was squeezing the rope, pulling the knot out, his knuckles going white.

"M'fine," he grumbled, avoiding Dale's gaze as Rick hopped the fence. He wasn't gonna walk away just because of some Sheriff.

Rick waded around the milling cows like they didn't bother him and that pissed Daryl off more than it should have. It wasn't like he'd been born around cattle and horses like these people had. He was just gonna have to accept that they _lived and breathed _this shit unlike him.

"Hey Daryl," he said conversationally, tipping his hat. Daryl just grunted his response, tossing the rope over his shoulder so he wouldn't keep strangling the thing.

"Carol here?" Dale pointed off, shaking his head.

"She took Sophia to school and hasn't been back since. Suspect she had some errands to run today." Rick nodded, watching the cattle absently.

"Sasha's been watching Ed's status in the auction," he said after a long pause.

Dale took a step forward but didn't say anything. Daryl waited for Rick to say something more but the silence continued and he hated the way it sat heavy between them all, like they were just waiting for someone to be choked on it.

"Well?" he barked, taking a step toward Rick, surprising both of them, "the hell does that mean?"

Rick blinked, glanced at Dale, and then looked back at Daryl. "It means," he said, taking his hat off, the action sending an uneasy ripple down his spine, "that Ed's coming back home."

**XXX**

She'd made a stop at the grocery store to pick up some bacon, bread, a few things Sophia needed for school. She'd wandered down the aisles thinking about what Daryl might like, avoiding going home, trying to take her mind off of Tiger Lily and Sky Dancer and Ed and _everything _that was going wrong.

She grabbed a can of green beans and threw them into her basket furiously.

"Dammit Carol," she muttered under her breath, feeling helpless and useless and so _angry _at herself. Why did she let Ed influence everything she did? Why didn't she fight back? Why did she let him _get away _with it?

She bit her lip, throwing another can into her basket.

Because of Sophia, and Bluebird, and Outlaw and Nettle and everyone else who relied on her. She hadn't even done anything _wrong. _Henry had just left, and Ed _still _managed to make that her fault. Still managed to punish her for it.

She couldn't let anyone else deal with that.

No matter what happened. Even if all she ever wanted was to watch him –

"Carol?"

She flinched, wrenched from her thoughts, and turned to find Andrea watching her curiously, head cocked to the side.

"Are you okay? I called your name a few times." Carol pressed a hand to her chest and breathed, fighting back her own thoughts. She nodded, and forced a smile to her face. She couldn't believe she'd let those thoughts drift in her mind while she'd been wandering in the store.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Andrea smiled, nodding at her basket.

"Were the cans talking back?" Carol was confused for a moment and then it dawned on her that Andrea must have seen her violently throwing the cans into her basket.

She felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that." Andrea laughed, letting her basket hang at her side. "I know how sassy peas can get." Carol laughed a little, easing up. It was only Andrea.

"Hey, so how's that new guy I sent your way? He working out well?" Carol didn't know what she was talking about and then she realized.

"You mean Daryl?" Andrea's face lit up, nodding.

"Yeah, he was at the bar the other night. Looking for work. I figured since Ed had been in there bitchin' about losin' Henry that you guys would be in need of a new hand." She didn't know what to say. It had never occurred to her that Daryl might have shown up _that day _because he knew that they would need him.

She bit her lip, chewing the healing split, and felt a pang of gratitude sweep through her. He'd come there, possibly knowing what he was getting himself into, and had _still _said yes.

She had to fight back the sudden emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't believe he had done that.

"Yes," she murmured, swallowing it back. "He's settling in very well." She heard Andrea mutter 'good' as she pulled something off the shelf.

But Carol didn't miss the way her eyes searched her face. She propped one hand on her hip, brows raised and nodded at her face, eyes darkening slightly. She swallowed, not liking the look she was getting.

"Did Ed not take to it well?" She would have choked in surprise had it been anyone else. But Andrea had always been the one to be forthcoming about her and Ed's situation.

She smiled faintly, hand fluttering to her face. "Accident with the horses. In the stables," she fought to stop herself from chattering on like an idiot. She knew they were foolish lies, and she knew that Andrea didn't believe a single one. Andrea had always thought she should have reported Ed to someone, let him be locked up for good.

"That why he took Sky Dancer away from you?" Something caught in her, and her eyes widened. Her chest constricted, and she fought back the sob rising in her throat. It was the way Andrea had said it, like she was sorry that he'd done it. Like she knew Ed was despicable and he deserved to have his lungs ripped out. Like she knew that everything Carol endured was all because she had loved Sky Dancer, and she loved Sophia and the rest of those she cared for.

"I have to go," she whispered, and turned, leaving Andrea behind.

"He doesn't deserve _anything_ you do for him!" Carol knew that but it didn't change the fact that she still couldn't leave them all behind.

**XXX**

"You could have gone with him." He didn't say nothin'. Just shifted from one foot to the other. He knew he was chewing his nail, and he knew it was a bad habit he did when nervous.

He saw Rick watchin' him.

"S'fine," he growled back, feeling anxious when he didn't really need to.

He didn't know how to handle this waitin' shit. Not like he had to be worried about anything. He weren't gonna let that Peletier ass touch him.

But that was problem. He could stop that dick from doing anything to him. But Carol?

"When ya think he's gonna be back?" Rick crossed his feet, fingering his hat as he thought about it for a moment. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Can't say as much," he answered finally. And it just pissed Daryl off more. What the hell were they supposed to do, wait for him? He could come back at any time and what was he supposed to do?

Hide in the cabin? Run to the woods? Watch their shadows through the kitchen window as he beat her? Listen to the sounds of it happening?

He couldn't do that. He'd done that his whole life, and he'd regretted it every minute. But what else _was _he supposed to do?

"Daryl," Rick said, pushing off from the fence, "there's no point in getting worked up over it. This isn't your problem. Not but three days here. This isn't something you need to concern yourself with."

He watched Rick for moment, and knew by the look in his eyes that he was being sincere and genuine. He weren't being an ass, and he weren't only thinking about himself.

He nodded, but didn't move. "I know," he said, rubbing at the back of his head. "I know, but I told her I'd work. We got a…a contract." They didn't really. Not like he signed nothing. But he wasn't gonna pull the shit that the kid before him had. He wasn't gonna leave her when she needed him.

Rick smiled, like he knew it wasn't true. "Alright then."

He didn't say anything more and Daryl was glad for it. He didn't care if the silence prickled at his neck, or the sweat stilled on his skin. He needed to do something other than just wait around for Carol to get back.

"Daryl." His jaw clenched and he didn't acknowledge that Rick had said anything. But he could see Rick watching him from the corner of his eye and knew that he was gonna say whatever it was.

"I don't –" But he didn't get to finish because Carol's jeep pulled up and he was stepping away from Rick, cutting off the conversation before he had a chance to finish it, whatever it was.

Carol stepped out of the jeep, and once her eyes landed on Rick, she hesitated, clutching at her purse on her shoulder. She held a plastic bag in her other hand, her fingers curling around it tightly.

"Rick," she called, letting the door close behind her. "What's going on?" She looked between him and Rick, panic settling over her. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she tucked in as if she were preparing for the worst. She knew something was wrong.

"Is Sophia okay?" Rick went to her, resting a hand on her arm, squeezing gently.

"She's fine Carol." She nodded, still looking around, unconvinced that everything was fine.

"Where's Dale?" Rick cleared his throat, twisting his hat in his hands. Daryl hated the way he took his time, letting the silence stretch on. He could see Carol getting more anxious by the second and he couldn't blame her. He was feeling the same way and he _knew _what it was already.

"Dale went to pick up supplies for the roof." Confusion slipped across her face, and she glanced at the house.

"The stable roof? Dale said something about Daryl fixing it." Her face opened up.

"Oh yes, he'd been working on it." Rick nodded.

"Storm's coming." Carol didn't say anything. She pulled her purse down her shoulder, mouth set in a grim line. She knew Rick was avoiding whatever he had come here to say. He wanted to spit it out, wanted to get the hell out of there. He didn't want to be a part of any of this business.

Despite everything that he didn't want to do, he knew he _shouldn't _do, he wanted to tell her that he wasn't going anywhere.

That he was going to _stay_.

"Carol, Ed's on his way back."

She went rigid, hands curling into fists as she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to his, and for a moment he held them, watched as the fear dilated her pupils. And then her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and she blinked and the fear was gone.

The green darkened, and in place of the fear was a resolve he'd not seen before.

"Thank you Rick," she said softly and turned away, walking toward the house, her shoulders drawn in tight.

"Carol?" She stopped, only to look over her shoulder.

"Sasha thinks it'll be soon." Daryl watched her waver. Whether it was because she wanted to ask him about Peletier or something he wouldn't know. Because she only nodded and continued back to the house.

Rick sighed heavily as he watched her go.

"I ain't got any right to ask of this but…"

"But yer gonna anyway." He nodded, face grim. Daryl didn't like the way it sounded. He could feel himself getting involved deeper than he'd wanted.

"Things are gonna get heavy around here once Ed gets back. You say you'll stay," Rick propped his hat back on his head and hooked his thumbs through his belt. "Then I'm gonna ask a favor." Daryl _hated _favors. People always wanted'em and they never returned them. Least, not for him. His experience with favors had left him with enough bruises and run-ins with the law than he cared for a lifetime.

But Rick didn't know that, didn't need to know that. "Storm's comin' Daryl. And there ain't nothin' any of us can do about that. Carol's been keepin' strong for so long that I'm not sure she can survive this one. Just like to know that she's got someone lookin' out for her."

Rick started walking away, shoulders set. Daryl didn't think Rick had seen Carol's eyes right. Didn't think he'd understood that look. She'd been survivin' this long, and he'd seen something in her eyes.

She was prepared to survive whatever Peletier had to give. Rick was wrong. He knew that by the look in her eyes, and the sheer fact that she was still there. How many times had he walked away from something that didn't seem possible? How many scars did he have to prove it?

People surprised ya every day. And Carol didn't seem the exception. Besides, she didn't need nobody to look after her. She'd been doing that her whole life. And he sure as hell were the wrong person to be askin'. He weren't no good at lookin' after nobody. He'd fucked that up more times than he cared to admit.

"Maybe ya should a brought her an umbrella," he grunted, walking away before Rick could say anything more.

He was surprised to hear the laughter that followed him. And he couldn't help the tiny lift of his lips at the sound.

* * *

**A/N**: This is the first chapter that I delved into both of their POVs and I enjoyed it. And your reviews would mean the world to me.


	8. The Dark Night

**Noxi: **I really am so sorry it took so long for this chapter. July has been brutal to me personally and it was a little hard to put down in words where exactly I wanted Daryl and Carol to go. But I hope that what I _did _write will have been well worth the wait.

Thank you _everyone _for reviewing. I know I didn't get to respond to you guys, and I'm sorry for that. But every single review is appreciated, and loved. Special thanks to _FaeriesMasquerade _for being an amazing friend, as usual. I'd also like to thank _littleshelly0619 _for coming and prodding me on several occasions and letting me know that she was waiting for this, and to not give up, and for giving me just what I needed for Ed.

**Note**: All of my bible verses come from the English Standard Version – there are several in this chapter. Mostly they are highlighted (italics) when Carol uses them so you'll know where they are.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

The Dark Night

_It was the pounding of the hundred feet surrounding him that threatened to trample them, killing them both. _

_It was the feel of her fragile body that he clutched tightly to his, as she shook and sobbed in his arms as he held her back from the one thing that had never been right. _

_It was the feel of his own trembling, at the foreign feel of her in his arms, at the anger that boiled in his blood, and constricted his muscles as he warred with every sense to just _let her go_. _

_It was the darkness that pressed against them and the rain that poured over them, muffling her screams, hiding the horror before their eyes only to be shed to light as the lighting flashed in the distance. _

_It was all he could to pull them back into the dark of the night._

**XXX**

She lay in bed, for a long time, curled on her side looking out the window. It was cloudy, the sky gray with rain, the rumble in the distance crying out in thunder. The storm really was coming.

"_Ed's on his way back." _

She closed her eyes tight against the fear that gripped her, curling her fingers in the blanket. She felt like a child, hiding under the blankets from the terrors as if that would deter them. But it felt good to be wrapped up in the warmth of her quilt, and to hide from the oncoming day no matter how ridiculous it was.

She couldn't hide forever though. She had so many things to do today as much as she didn't _want _to do any of them. The horses were still outside, and though they had the stable run she didn't like leaving them to the elements. And if the weather turned decidedly wicked someone would need to stay outside with the cattle. The calves would need to be moved inside and the herd moved to the other pasture. And Daryl should know what that was like, during a thunderstorm, before they hit the winter ones.

But she curled into herself, under the blankets, and sighed. She could hear the downstairs shower turn on as Sophia got ready for school. She was late as it was and for once, she just wanted to lay there and do nothing. Spend a morning wrapped in herself and forget that her life was waiting for her.

It was the whinny of one of the horses, Molly if she knew it right, that had her rolling over and sitting on the edge of the bed. She rubbed at her face, and exhaled. She looked out the window as her shoulders sagged.

"_Storm's coming." _

Her hands curled into fists on her legs, and her eyes found the stand by her table. There was a picture of her and Sophia, smiling, sitting in the horse pasture. An old horseshoe that curled around the base of the picture frame, at odds with the entire setting, but one that had made its home there because it had belonged to Starling. And there sat the book.

She picked it up, its weight heavier than she had last remembered it.

Of course, it had been a long time since she had opened the book. That should have been a problem, would have been for _her mother_. She would have said something about it.

"_You're a good wife, aren't you Carol?" _

But after what Rick had told her yesterday, she needed to open it for herself. She needed that reassurance, needed to stifle her mother's voice that just kept echoing in her head ever since Rick had told her that Ed was coming back.

"_Mother, I can't stay with him," she pleaded, hoping for once that she would just _listen _to her. _

_But her mother didn't turn from the stove, and seemed as if she hadn't heard her. She felt her chest constrict, tightening painfully with the sudden awareness that nothing would ever change. That no matter what she did, there would always be _this_. _

"_He hurts me mama," she whispered, stifling back the tears. She hadn't called her mama in years. All she wanted was to come home, to escape Ed, to find a place where she could be _safe_. Even if her parents' house wasn't any safer at least it wasn't where Ed was. At least he couldn't touch her here. _

_But her mother didn't even turn around. She kept stirring whatever was in the pot, which smelled like spaghetti sauce, her shoulders stiffening with each passing second. _

"_You go back there Carol Anne," she demanded quietly. And Carol flinched, curling inward. Her mother hadn't used that tone in a long time, not since she'd last come here. She'd been pregnant then, and she'd told her the same thing. Go back. He'll get better. _

She would get used to it.

"_You go back and be a good wife." Her mother did turn then, her eyes narrowed. She swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself. She remembered that look, and the intolerance behind it. Her mother was _unforgiving_. _

"_Whatever you've done to make him angry, you go back there and you make up for it._" _Her mother walked around the table, and Carol withdrew into herself. _

_She grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing firmly. But it was her eyes – the unshakeable belief of what she was saying held so firmly in them. Carol had never understood why her mother had ever become the person she was. _

_But she was beginning to see it now. _

"Under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no **forgiveness** of sins." _Carol bit her lip hard, knowing without that book in front of her that her mother was quoting the word of the Lord to her. Whatever her mother believed it had been ingrained into her. It could only be lessons upon lessons taught to her. And now, Carol was also expected to be the same way. _

_She was taught that God wanted her to be a good wife to her husband. Not matter what. _

She bent forward over the book, curling it into her chest. But her mother _twisted_ the word of God to her use, and had Carol believing for most of her life that this was what she was supposed to be living. She was supposed to be a _good _wife. She was supposed to _endure_ through the pain, the blood, the sweat and the tears.

She was to give Ed exactly what he wanted, even if that meant it was her pain.

She sat up, glancing at the approaching clouds out her window, the rumble growing louder. Whatever God had wanted, surely it had never been this.

"_But when I hoped for good, evil came, and when I waited for light, darkness came,_" she murmured, running her hand gently over the black cover biting back the emotion that threatened to consume her.

She had no love from Ed. She wondered if she had _ever _had any love from him. She had given him _everything _and all he had given her in return was pain, and lost hope, and suffering.

_And Sophia. _If there was anything that she would ever be grateful from his miserable, wasteful life it was her Sophia. But it still did nothing to stop her from hating what had happened to her.

"_My inward parts are in turmoil and never still; __days of affliction come to meet me._" She still suffered endlessly, and there didn't seem to be any end.

She opened the book, letting the thin, wispy pages slide softly against her fingers. The bible had always held a certain smell to her, like an old manuscript that had never been found until now. It used to give her the impression that it was ancient and wise.

But now, she felt no comfort from it. If she was honest, she had never truly felt _any _comfort from it. It had been used as a model to force her relationship with Ed into something that was supposed to be _hers _to fix. She was supposed to make it right every time _he _did something wrong. Every time he hurt her, it was _her _fault.

She flipped through the pages softly, carefully, first through Genesis, and Chronicles. And then Job and Psalms where she stopped, her fingers hovering over chapter 6. She flipped the fragile pages until she found the right number, the pages worn and wrinkled and faded. There was no doubt that this page had been looked at many times.

She smoothed out the pages, her fingers running over the bump across the verses in eighteen. And then she started to read. More from memory, than from sight.

And the longer she read, the angrier she got. The Lord had never done _anything _for her. Not once had she been given hope, not once had she thought that Ed was going to ever change his ways, not _once _did she ever think he would stop.

Did she deserve this?

Did she deserve the pain of his fists on her face? Did she deserve to be made to feel like she wasn't worth the shit beneath his shoes? Did she deserve to work herself sick everyday all for the sake of someone who didn't _love _her?

God did not make the earth tremble for her. God did not make Ed suffer. Ed did not turn his back to flee from anything. _She _suffered, _she_ feared him.

She turned the page, the spine resisting her, and she felt her throat close up.

She closed her eyes, and let her fingers slide over the smooth, cold metal like she'd done it a thousand times before. And then she opened her eyes and found her reflection staring back her. She looked older than she should have, and the dark circles under eyes weighed heavy on her skin. The bruise was clearing up, turning an ugly yellow-green. But it was the haunted look in her own eyes that sent a shudder through her.

She chewed her lip, pushing back the tears. The switchblade was small, old, rusted and she never let it fold closed all the way because it would never have fit, because of _reasons_. But none of that mattered. It was big enough to make her heart pound in her chest and her fingers shake. It was big enough to make her fear every day that the book sat on her nightstand next to the bed. It was big enough to make her wonder every night if it would do what she had never had the courage to actually _do_.

She snapped the book closed, hiding the one thing she had hated herself for, and that she had _loved _herself for.

"_If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing_," she whispered, holding the book tightly to her chest. She stood up, standing in front of the window. She watched as Dale left the stable, heading for the cattle pasture, and felt her heart still at the sight of Daryl following.

Daryl was one more thing to explain to Ed when he got back. One more thing she would face his fists for, one more thing he would find a reason to _take _something from her for.

She curled her fingers around the book in her hands tightly, and watched him continue to walk away with Dale.

He was one more person she was ready to take the weight of that pain for.

**XXX**

He was nervous. Ain't never been nervous bout somethin' he couldn't control and he hated it. But hell if he weren't. Dale had come fer him this morning, and that set him on edge. It was later than they normally got started, and he was itching to get his body moving.

Didn't help that his body ached. His feet ached, his back ached, his fingers ached. But most of all, his shoulder ached something fierce. He rotated the cuff, wincing as the dull pain sent a different ache through him.

There was a storm comin'. Didn't need nobody to tell him that. When his shoulder ached, he could _feel _it. He reached up, massaging the sore tendon. It'd been that way ever since he was fifteen and his ol' man had dislocated the joint. He'd held him to the ground, Daryl couldn't remember what for, boot to his back and twisted his wrist behind him so hard that his shoulder jerked free.

His jaw clenched as his shoulder ached with the sudden memory, his screams still dying out on the back of his throat.

"Y'all right?" He shot Dale a warning glance, but didn't say nothing, the ache in his shoulder occupying him.

He'd not been able to stop the tears of pain either at the time and his ol' man had beaten him after for those too. Nobody had been around for that. Ma was dead, and Merle was gone doin' his own thing; jail, drugs or sex. He suspected all three.

He'd had to push his shoulder back into place once he found his strength, and he didn't know how long it was before that happened. He'd been on the ground for a long time unconscious before he actually woke up.

Thing hurt like a bitch. Felt like he was trying to do exactly what he didn't want. Ever since, weather ain't never been kind on his bones. None of them if he thought about it. His wrist hurt like hell, and he knew it weren't just from fixin' the roof. That'd been broken at some point too, same as his pinky finger.

He felt the rain hit his face in a cold, soft caress. He looked up as the sky rumbled in distant anger, blinking at the drops.

"Gotta get the calves in before the rain comes down harder," Dale murmured next to him. He remembered his Georgia storms, the way they'd come in quick and hot, like one of his ol' man's tempers. He'd be out hunting and the next thing he'd know his shoulder would send an ache so fierce through him, the crossbow shaking in his hand, and he'd lose the game he was eying.

And then it would pour.

He sighed. He was just glad he'd finished the roof. The light had started disappearing over the edge of the horizon when he'd put the last shingle on yesterday. He'd worked up a hell of a sweat too but he was satisfied with what he'd done. Least now she wouldn't have no rain comin' through the roof, and it would last longer than before.

He didn't have much, but he was good at what he did.

While he'd been up there, he'd watched her. She'd finally come out of that house, silent and troubled, and had taken to the pasture where the horses waited for her. She'd spoken to Dale, conversed with him for a long time when he approached her, but he tended to the cattle for the rest of the day after that.

And when she went to the pasture, she never left it. She brushed each of the them down, talked to them, buried her face against their necks. Walked the pasture, checked the entire fence line, checking each post. She watched the sun sink slowly behind the mountains. And then when she went to Outlaw, _finally_, she didn't even try to touch him. She just watched him for a moment before sitting down a few feet from him.

And she sat there for a long time. He figured maybe an hour, two, just _watching_ Outlaw. It was a long time for someone to just be sittin' and starin' and not doin' nothing. And that horse, it just stared right back. Or he walked a few feet one way just to walk back the way he'd come from. It was like he was dancing around her, lookin' to walk away but not ready to step away from a challenge. Daryl understood that. He'd been raised to take challenges. He'd never walked away from one in his entire life neither, no matter how bad they'd gotten.

He didn't know what she was doin' just staring at the horse. But he didn't know nothing about horses either so he just kept watching them, intrigued. And he wouldn't never believe it if he hadn't a seen it, but that damn horse took a step toward her, his head lowering to the ground hesitantly.

He could remember stopping what he was doing to watch as Outlaw dug at the ground, shaking his head. It was like they were testing each other, seeing who would break first, who would do something to ruin the shaky trust that he could see she was slowly starting to build.

And he could see now that that was what she was trying to do – gain his trust, show him that she weren't bad like Peletier or the others before them. Show him that if he let her, he could be loved.

It was that realization that hit a nerve in him and he couldn't watch her any longer. He turned his back on her, and set about finishing the roof, pounding the nails in deeper and harder than he had before.

And as he slammed another nail through another shingle he couldn't stop from watching out of the corner of his eyes as Outlaw took another step toward her, hesitant, afraid, but still _wanting_ to see if she could be trusted. Still holding onto that small inkling of hope that maybe _this one _wasn't like the rest.

But the moment she raised her hand, reaching it out to him, he was gone. He flicked his head back, snorted, and jogged away. He watched Carol's hand drop back into her lap, and he'd never seen so much patience on a woman 'fore.

Carol was different than any other woman he'd encountered before. He'd met some who'd give you a fuck for free, and there were the ones who acted like they wanted to be nice and get to know him but all they wanted was something for themselves. And the ones like his Ma, who acted like they were victims but never once did she try to get them from their ol' man. Not _once _did he ever remember her leavin'. It was always a choice. Between him and Merle. She never tried to love'em both equally. She never tried to fight back against their ol' man. She never _tried_.

She just rolled over, and let his ol' man beat Merle when she wanted to save him. Let the ol' man beat _him _when she was drunk and lazy. And that's what she did – got _lazy. _

"May have ta stay with the cattle tonight, if the storm gets bad enough," Dale said, knocking him from his memories. Daryl just nodded, swallowing back the sudden emotion that had welled up within him. He bit his lip hard, forcing himself to push back those memories. His Ma was _gone_, and his ol' man weren't here. He cleared his throat noisily.

"That mean ya gonna need me?" Dale turned back to look at him, a small smile playing at his lips, like he was glad that Daryl had _offered_ and Dale didn't need to tell him to.

"I just might," he remarked, and waved him on, moving briskly for the herd.

It was a moment before Daryl followed, and he almost glanced over his shoulder. But he stopped himself before he fully turned to look, and closed his eyes, turning his face to the sky instead.

He didn't know what to make of Carol. She protected her daughter, and she protected the animals here on this place. But she didn't protect _herself_. She let that asshole do whatever he wanted to her.

Was that any different than what he'd left behind? Was her life any different than the ones he was trying to escape from?

Thunder rumbled in the distance again, and he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the drizzle.

"_Brothers are fightin' baby." _

He grunted, letting the whisper slip passed him and opened his eyes up to the sky above him, blinking against the rain.

"Just thunder," he murmured to himself.

"What was that?" Dale asked.

"Nothin'," he barked back, harsher than he'd meant. Dale just shrugged his shoulders and opened the gate to the herd, the cattle lowing around them, huddling in close to each other. He could see some of the calves hiding under the legs of the older ones, waiting out the storm patiently.

"Gotta get the calves under the shed first, before the others crowd'em," Dale shouted above the wind that whipped across his face.

Daryl nodded, watching the black clouds shift over the mountain.

**XXX**

Carol ran off the front porch, into the harsh rain that had started that morning soft and continued all day, letting the fat, cold droplets hit her face and mix with her tears. She knew what was rain and not – one was warm and the other cold. She hadn't meant to do this. To reduce herself to tears and weakness. She had ended yesterday resolved – she would face Ed when he came home. And this morning, when she had opened her eyes to a gray, cloudy sky, she had still felt the same. She had gotten out of bed, had taken Sophia to school, had told Lori everything was okay, because _dammit _it was.

And then she'd come home.

Come home and seen the stables empty. Seen the pasture where the horses grazed. Seen what they had never been able to escape from, seen what _she _had never been able to escape from and it had started to eat at her all day. She'd gone about her work, but it still didn't matter what she did to try and _forget _it. Even Sophia had noticed her mood when she had picked her back up from school.

And now it had come to this.

She had watched Outlaw stare at those mountains long enough, _in the rain_ for that matter. She watched his yearning for too long.

If there was something that could be done about it, then she had to do _something_.

She fumbled with the latch, hating the way the tears streamed down her cheeks, hating that the lock caught in her shaking fingers, slipping in the water, _hating _this. She flung the gate open, all of the rage and the hate and the sadness and the _pain _consuming her and she pushed until it stood wide, her shoulders aching.

She saw Dale approach her slowly from her right, his steps wary. She could see the pity in his eyes, and his silence was overbearing.

She should have stopped right then and there. She should have taken a deep breath, and_ thought _about what she was doing. But all sense of thought was gone, and she didn't want to feel the ache in her chest or the overwhelming fear that continued to chase her.

And the moment Outlaw's eyes met hers she couldn't _stop_. This was what she had come out here for. This is what had been nagging at her ever since she had seen Tiger Lily, ever since Sky Dancer had been taken from her, ever since Ed had proven his point.

Ever since Daryl had spoken those words.

_"Why don't ya just let'im go?" _

She was done being that person. Done holding them against their will. She was done being _just like_ Ed.

She stormed through the pasture, hating the way Outlaw grew agitated at her approach – tossing his head back, panicking, nostrils flaring, and eyes widening. She hated herself for showing him exactly what she'd never wanted – that everyone was the same.

That love would never find him.

That he was a _prisoner_ against his own will. She would not hold him here when she could grant him that freedom.

"GO!" she screamed, her heart breaking at the way Outlaw jerked, side-stepping toward the open gate.

"Leave!" she yelled, lunging at him. He snorted heavily, prancing away from her, tail flicking nervously.

She should have never have kept him, should have never have let Ed keep him. She let Ed abuse him, use him, and defile a creature that deserved none of it. Outlaw didn't ask for this life. He didn't ask to be kept confined to a space too small. He didn't ask to be beaten, didn't ask to be used against his will.

He wanted freedom, and love, and the open skies.

And who was she to defy him that when there was no here to stop _her_?

She fell to her knees, as the image of Ed consumed her, the tears running hot down her cheeks, the rain soaking her clothes, a chill traveling up her spine.

"Have your freedom," she sobbed, watching as he edged away from her toward the gate. It was closer to his freedom, further away from all of this evil. She glanced at the open gate, standing wide open.

There was no one here to stop her either. Would the world collapse on itself if she left for a better place? Would God strike her down for abandoning a man who had done nothing for her and everything to hurt her? Would it be so bad if she left to find happiness, _for once_, for herself?

A sob wrenched its way passed her throat and she buried her face in her hands, falling to the ground, the scent of the earth filling her nose as the grass tickled her cheeks.

She couldn't leave. She couldn't leave the house that she had built a life in, no matter how twisted and horrible the shadows had become. She couldn't leave behind Nettle, and Bluebird, and Molly, and the cats, and the hundred cattle that served as her livelihood.

She couldn't leave the only home that Sophia had known.

She just couldn't do it.

"_I hate you_," she screamed, the grass tickling her lips and the dirt now a taste in her mouth. Her fingers curled in the ground, tearing up the grass, nails digging a trail through the dirt.

She couldn't breathe. Her thighs pressed against her chest, suffocating her slightly, and she panted for air. But she refused to sit up, refused to allow herself that small mercy. She buried her hands in her hair, curling her fingers against her scalp, nails digging into her skin. The pain was sharp and sweet, cutting just the flesh, sending goose bumps down her neck.

She hated herself for not being strong enough to leave. She hated Ed for not loving her and treating her right. She hated herself for not leaving when she had the chance. She hated herself for staying, for allowing Ed to have her.

The pain of all the years she had lost at his hands consumed her, robbing her of the air she tried to breathe.

It was the sadness that crippled her, that she would never escape this life because she was too weak. Because she couldn't abandon the people, the animals that depended on her. Because in the end, this was the only world she had ever known and she didn't know how to live any other. Because in the end _she_ needed _them_.

It was the unavoidable truth that one day she would die at his hands and the horrific joy that that brought her set her heart pounding in her chest. It was the pure, sweet taste of a future that left her salivating for more. That she would finally be free of him. That death would set her _free_.

And then, a warm, wet nose was nudging her arm, burying itself against her. She looked up, into the rain. Outlaw stood above her, head bent toward her. Her heart stopped for a moment at the sight of him, his eyes seeking her out. She reached up with a tentative hand, breath caught in her throat, watching his eyes, waiting for that moment when he would run from her. And she let her fingers trail up his cheek.

She choked on her tears, as a sob slipped passed her. He didn't run.

_He didn't run._

He blinked, letting out a sigh and she laid her forehead against his, burying her fingers in his neck, letting his warm breath rush over her face.

He was staying.

_He would stay with her._

**XXX**

He stood at the edge of the shed, the cattle shifting around him, and he couldn't stop watching. He couldn't stop watching as she broke down in that field, the rain pouring down on her. He couldn't stop watching, even as his feet itched to run. He couldn't stop watching as that horse was given the opportunity to find its own freedom, and instead, it chose to stay.

His chest clenched, and he didn't like the feeling.

"Mama's got that way." He jumped, his heart pounding in his chest and he turned to find the little girl standing a few feet from him.

Her hands gripped the post, her knuckles goin' white.

"Woof." He took a step back, glanced down, surprised to find a dog standing at her feet, staring at him intently. He shoulda known. Damn ranch had everything else here, why wouldn't there be a dog.

She reached down, rubbing at the dog's head, pulling him in for a hug. The dog musta been used to it because he sat down and took it like it was a common thing she did. Dog even rested his head on her shoulder, like he was giving her one back.

"What way?" he asked, swallowing back his initial reaction, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The rain sprinkled against his face as the wind whipped it under the shed roof and he couldn't stop from watching the girl's face, watching as she stared at her mom.

She never let go of that dog, gripping him tighter in fact.

"The way to love," she whispered, her eyes never leaving her mom.

Daryl didn't know what to say, because he didn't want to admit that he was starting to believe she had something. He'd watched her perform some kind a damn miracle with that horse. She'd gotten him to come to her, when he thought Outlaw would never let no one touch him again. When he would a sworn to any god that Outlaw would a chosen _freedom. _

"Sophia?" She turned, Dale standing a few feet behind them. He gestured her over.

"Why don't you take Lincoln on over to my place. He can stay there for the night." She smiled then, a thing that lit up her face in places he didn't know were possible.

"Okay," she said, standing up. Daryl watched her walk away for a moment, the dog at her heels. He turned away, in time to see Carol gently lead Outlaw out of the pasture, out of the rain and toward the stable.

"Mr. Daryl?" He sputtered, and turned on his heel.

"Daryl," he grunted, finding her green eyes. "Jus' Daryl kid." Her eyes bore into him, and he didn't like the feeling that rose in his chest. That look was a little too much like her Ma's.

"Don't call me that, okay?" she murmured, eyes glancing down. "It's Sophia." There was a moment of awkward silence where he didn't know what to say. Kids made him nervous and this one wasn't any better. There was a familiarity to her that he didn't like.

So he just nodded, and turned away.

"Are you gonna stay too?" she asked, her voice barely reaching him. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, wondering why she'd come out there by him anyway.

He watched as Carol stood with the door to the stable wide open, and Outlaw stood in the rain, watching her back.

And for a moment, he wondered if the horse would take his freedom then. There was nothing to stop him, nothing holding him back from taking off and leaving her there. And Carol waited, like she knew it too. Like this was the moment she knew would be his final choice.

And then that horse walked through the door.

His shoulder ached, and he shifted his arm to relieve the muscle. "Ain't got nowhere better to be," he grunted, leaning against the fence, crossing his arms. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see her turn away, and the small smile on her face.

He didn't know what the hell she was smiling about.

_**XXX**_

She was ashamed to think back on this afternoon. She had never meant to break down, _again_. But she couldn't stop the flurry of emotions that wound through her. It was the constant battle of _when_ he would get back, and _what _he would do when he did. And it wasn't just the fact that he was coming back tonight. It was the constant flash of what a storm _meant _to her on any other day that Ed was home.

It plagued her. It sent her in a panic. It had her short of breath. It had her doubling over, clutching at her stomach, and trying to find the air to breath.

How many times had Ed used the cover of the storm to have his way with her? How many times had he tried to muffle her cries when he hurt her during these storms?

People thought she was afraid of the thunder because of some childish reason. But they didn't _know_.

They didn't know what he _did_.

She pulled the bible close to her chest, and paced. She didn't think she would be able to sleep tonight. No matter how tired she was, her mind would not rest. Just the thought of him coming back kept her nerves buzzing. The memories that bombarded her kept her from sitting still.

She stopped a moment, to stare at the stables, and felt a moment of happiness slip through her. There was a bright spot in all of this. Despite all that had happened, Outlaw had stayed.

He had chosen to stay, had seen something in her that he was willing to stay for. She only hoped that nothing would come from what she had done for him.

"_The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold._" She stood at the window pulling the book to her chest, cradling the one thing she had kept within reach for so many years. The one thing that had saved her on so many nights when she had thought she would not last the night.

She looked out at the darkness that swallowed up everything.

When did she stop giving everything to Ed, and when did she start doing something for herself? When did it _stop_? She put her hand against the glass, as lighting streaked across the sky, lighting up the land.

"_I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies,_" she whispered, the glass fogging.

When did she start saving herself?

**XXX**

Dale had told him to get some sleep before he came on watch with the cattle. But he couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in bed and knew that sleep wouldn't come. All he could think about was Peletier showing up at any moment. What would he do? What would he say?

What would _Carol_ do?

So he'd gotten up and sat in that chair, and smoked. He pulled another cigarette out, grumbling when he noticed the pack dwindling. This was his fourth that hour. He didn't usually chain smoke but hell if his nerves weren't gettin' to him.

The cherry glow lit up his face, and he took a drag, inhaling deep. He glanced down at the tan and brown cat, curled up at his feet once again, as the thunder continued to rumble in the distance. Storm just wasn't giving up on today. He reached down, letting his fingers trail gently over the cat's head, its soft fur tickling his skin.

"That's Vangeline." He jumped.

"Jesus _fucking _Christ," he barked, flinching as he tipped in the chair and dropped the cigarette from his fingers, watching as the cat streaked back into the dark. His heart was pounding in his chest.

He didn't even hear her come up next to him she'd been so damn quiet. He watched her intently, her green eyes looking him over. He wished that he was the damn cat right then, running for cover.

He shifted nervously, running a hand through his hair. The way she was lookin' at him he could a sworn she was out here for something that he didn't have.

"You shouldn't say stuff like that," she murmured softly, sitting on the steps near his feet, pulling her knees up to her chest. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and shifted in his seat. Kids made him fuckin' _nervous_. He'd been good with'em once, but not since…

He cleared his throat, pushing those emotions back. He'd just tell her to go back to bed. Wasn't like she should be out here with him anyway, in the dark, with the storm getting heavier by the minute.

She sighed, resting her chin across her knees, turning to look at him.

"Ya should, ah, go on back to bed," he muttered, reaching down to pick his cigarette back up. She watched him closely, silent, the only movement her breathing.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, waiting for her to say something, anything. He could see her sizing him up, judging him. She'd come out here for something, but for _what_? He didn't have nothing for her. What impression did he give her that she thought she could come out here and sit with him?

"Can't sleep," she whispered hoarsely, and he knew right then that she'd been crying. Could hear it in her voice. Damn but he didn't know how to handle that shit. Girls _and _crying? He was fucked.

He swallowed hard, and thought about what he could say, but came up with shit. Merle had never given him advice on girls for _this_ stuff. He inhaled again, let the ash burn his lungs. It was safer to stay quiet, safer to avoid looking at her.

"Mama she…she isn't sleeping." He had wondered what was going on up in there. Carol's light had been on since he'd tried to sleep. He wondered what kept her awake. "She starts breathing badly." He looked back at the girl, brows furrowed. Sounded like a panic attack. But Sophia wasn't watching him anymore. She was looking at the sky, eyes closed to the rain. "Or she prays," she whispered.

Silence came over her, and he was glad for it. He didn't want to know what was going on in that house. He had enough to worry about with his own damn anxiety. Shit he didn't need.

Thunder rumbled again as the rain pounded against the roof, louder, closer and Sophia curled her legs tighter against her chest.

"We don't sleep when it storms," she murmured. He didn't know what the hell that meant, and something told him he didn't _want _to know either.

"Mama ain't allowed to sleep," she said heavily, swallowing, "I can't sleep cos a…" She buried her face in her knees, and he about ran for cover. That was shit he _did not _need to know. There were enough empty spaces in that sentence for him to be able to fill on his own and that was something he'd not prepared himself for, had _never _wanted to prepare himself for.

"Look, my uh," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pulling from a memory he'd thought he never have to again, "my Ma used to tell this _story _about thunder."

It was something his Ma had been raised in, that Indian shit. And he weren't dumb enough ta believe it either. But that didn't mean it weren't something. Didn't mean his _Ma _hadn't believed it. He never bothered to ask. She always thought that if she brought up the story it got him an' Merle to make up. Sometimes, he liked to let her believe that.

He watched as Sophia's head picked up, slowly. He took that as a sign to keep going. Anything to avoid further conversation down the road she was takin'.

"She used to uh, used to say that thunder was these brothers." He bit at his thumb, the memory coming back to him sharp, and clear.

"_Listen baby," she said, turning about, her ratty blue dress flipping up against her thin, white legs. She grabbed his hand, her Virginia Slim slipping from her fingers, and as much as he wanted to pull away, he felt another pull. One that urged him to hold on. _

He watched as Sophia's head angled just toward him. "When the thunder's low like that," he said, just as it rumbled above their heads, "it means these brothers are talking."

Sophia turned her head so she could look at him, and he could see she was interested.

"What are they talking about?" she whispered back. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in the chair and inhaling again, his cigarette getting smaller. Her eyes lowered.

He remembered he'd asked his Ma the same thing once.

"_What do all brothers talk about?" she responded. _

He thought that was stupid. He didn't know what all brothers talked about. Hell, sometimes he and Merle _never _talked. Sometimes all Merle wanted to talk about was pussy. Sometimes Merle only talked about drugs. Sometimes Merle only talked about…

A crack resounded over their heads, and a flash followed. He watched as Sophia jumped in her seat, and he didn't miss the small shriek that left her lips.

"Sometimes, the brother's start fighting," he explained, her eyes frantically seeking out something, anything to calm her. She stood up, wrapping her arms around herself, and he was reminded of Carol. "Sometimes, they do it cos that's all they know." Her green eyes bore into his, and he felt like she was stripping him away. Knocking down the walls.

Discerning the truth from the lies.

"You should go inside," he said, clearing his throat. But she just shook her head, and left the safety of the steps, the heavy rain soaking her.

"I'm gonna go see Bluebird." He watched her go, the smallest feeling tugging at his chest. Something told him she shouldn't be out there tonight. He couldn't place what, but tonight just wasn't the night for it.

"Ain't good to be out in a storm like this." And she stopped, the rain pelting against her small, fragile body, and she turned to look at him. It was the look in her eyes that set his shoulders curling in, had him burying himself deeper into his chair.

Why did he know that look?

"You gonna tell me what to do, just like my daddy?" She asked him softly, without any hate, or anger or the accusation he'd been waiting for. And when he didn't respond, she turned back around and kept walking, arms wrapped tight around her shoulders.

He wasn't gonna say nothing. Cos he weren't her daddy, and he weren't gonna tell her what to do. And he finally knew what that look was, why it had felt so familiar. And he knew why it had hurt so bad to see it.

_Thunder cracked over their head, and the rain started to pour down on them. "Brothers are fightin' baby," she whispered, her lopsided smile stretching across her face as she fell to her back in the grass, pulling him down with her. He lay there beside her, wondering when he'd stop following her around, when he'd stop hoping she'd actually start acting like the Ma he wanted. _

"_Just a summer storm Ma," he barked, feeling angry for no reason at all. _

_But he watched her head turn toward him, slow and agonizing, and when he saw her face he wanted to curl away from her. It looked as if she had lost the life in her eyes. _

"_You gonna talk to me jus' like yer daddy?" She pulled her hand away, her fingers slipping between his as the rain hit her face, eyes never blinking. _

"_I-Ma I-" he swallowed hard, the words stuck in his throat, unable to say anything. His Ma had never done anything like this before. Had never looked at him like she had nothing left in her. _

_She curled on her side, back to him, and for a moment, the storm softened. _

"_Leave me," she said faintly, and for a fraction of an instant, he thought he heard her voice crack. He reached out, his fingers grazing across her shoulder, her skin cold against his touch. _

"_Leave me!" she screamed, turning to slap his hand away. He felt the sharp sting of her hand deeper than he'd wanted too. _

_He rose to his feet, the rain coming down hard now, assaulting his neck, and Ma didn't move. He knew that look in her eyes now, knew when he'd seen it. _

_It was when she'd looked at his ol' man. She'd looked at him the same way she'd looked at his ol' man. _

_He turned, and he ran, leaving her behind. _

His Ma, she was gone not long after that. _Dead_. But he never forgot the way his Ma's eyes had looked. Never forgot the way her voice had echoed, empty in the space between them. He'd hated his Ma for doing that to him. For making him feel like he'd done something wrong when she should a been looking out for him. He was just a kid. He didn't know nothing then. But for as much as he hated her, he'd loved her. She'd never done right by him an' Merle and he never forgot that. But sometimes, he didn't wonder if she didn't know _how _to do anything but what she did.

He made sure Sophia made it into the stables before turning back to watch the light in Carol's room go out.

**XXX**

She was lying in bed, the quilt tangled at her feet, and the bible pressed to her chest when she heard the engine outside. It was deafened against the roaring of the storm that hadn't stopped all day, and had only increased in its anger into the night.

But she knew the sound of that engine, knew it like she knew every tick of his cheek muscle when he was angry. Knew it like she could sense the heavy silence before he hit her. Knew it like the feel of his hands on her body, unwanted and that left her trembling in self-hatred all night. Most nights she felt as if she were going to be sick.

Just like now.

She jumped from the bed, her socked feet hitting the ground as she ran.

"Sophia!"

She ran down the stairs, stopping in the hallway, hands braced against the doorway as she waited for her daughter's voice to come to her. And when it did not her knees began to shake.

"Sophia!" She ran to Sophia's room, hoping against her prays that her daughter was there and had simply not heard her. But when she found Sophia's room empty, she felt the breath catch in her lungs, choking her.

The pit in her stomach grew, swallowing her whole. She stumbled as she pitched forward, everything around her turning dark as she could only focus on the front door. If Sophia wasn't inside, then she was out there, closer to Ed, further away from her, far enough away from her than she could get too.

She slammed the front door open, and barreled down the steps and into the downpour of rain. The rain whipped against her bare legs, soaking through her over-sized shirt as she searched for the one thing she had been dreading all night, hoping Sophia was nowhere near here.

She looked around as the wind whipped up her shirt, the cold rain hitting her bare legs, her socks soaked through.

"Sophia!" But her voice disappeared in the wind.

She could see the truck, sitting idle by the cattle shed. He should have parked it by now, and had been on his way inside. She didn't know what had stalled him.

And then she watched in horror, as Ed's truck backed up, the lights flaring bright in the darkness and the storm, and he drove straight into the cattle shed.

She didn't even know she was screaming until her voice trickled off and her throat was raw.

And then she was running, slipping, and tripping in the mud as the rain slammed into her face, blurring her vision, chilling her to the bone. She could hear Dale shouting through the thunder. And then a crack of the lighting lit up the sky, illuminating Daryl, his body crouched low to the ground mere _inches_ from the truck.

"Ed!" She screamed but she knew her voice didn't carry far. Because she watched as his heavy body slipped from the truck, and not once did he glance in her direction. He stared at Daryl with that look on his face that she had learned to fear her whole life. He was out to kill.

He stumbled toward Daryl and she ran, without any regard for her safety.

And then another crack of thunder split the sky and the cattle, already spooked from Ed running through the shed, jolted into action.

_They ran._

"Ed!" She screamed again, and this time, he turned. His eyes focused on her, his head cocked to the side, and she watched as his lips moved once, forming a single word.

_Dead._

She felt the recoil hit her hard as her entire body jolted with entirety of what that one word could mean.

"Carol! Run!" She turned, finding Dale motioning frantically at her, waving with his arms for her to run.

But she couldn't move, couldn't make her legs start moving even as the cattle came charging in her direction. She could only watch in mute horror as Ed, unaware of what was coming, staring at her with a fierce hatred, was knocked flat to the ground by a cow behind him. And then the rest of the herd followed like a raging stampede, full of fear and knowing only one direction to go; _out_.

"Carol!" She didn't know what she was doing, not until she felt the arms around her, restricting her, holding onto her.

It wasn't until she felt the body against her back, warm against the cold, harsh rain that she knew what was happening.

It wasn't until she really opened her ears that she knew it was her who was screaming.

Screaming for _him_.

* * *

**A/N**: I've heard that several of my fellow Caryl authors are being trolled, and I'd just like to tell them – **Don't you **_**ever**_** give up on your writing**. Don't let the _Ed's _tear you down.

_Caryl on_ my kittens.


	9. Gasping for Air

**Noxi**: There are quite a few flashbacks in this chapter, some that take place from the chapter before, and others that take place from the past. I hope that each of them are easy enough to figure out. This is also primarily _Carol_. She has a lot to say, and I think that's because I'm finding an end to a voice of hers that she needs to make peace with. Thank you so much for your patience with this. I've found that I'm a slave to my own whims and my own writing, and this story has taken a lot of patience out of myself, and I'm sure a _lot _out of each of you. And for that I am eternally grateful. I don't know what I'd do without each of you here reading, and reviewing. You are what make me enjoy writing this continually. Thank you for still being here. This is for **faeriesmasquerade **who is the most wonderful person ever. She does a lot for me and I love her. If you haven't read her story, _Three Little Birds_, you absolutely **must**. Go forth my kittens.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

**Warning**: This chapter is so very hard on Carol. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I swear that it will come to an end soon enough but for now I continue to haunt you all. Trigger warnings for **intense angst, violence** and **death during childbirth **(_this one is rather hard on the emotions – not so much graphic_).

* * *

Gasping for Air

A chill ran up his spine, sending goose bumps down his skin. There was a chill wind in the air, and it hadn't stopped drizzling all day. The storm had finally stopped, but it hadn't stopped raining. It was the rain that kept the memory alive and fresh, like the echoing pain of one a his ol' man's kicks to the back when he was down. He'd feel that for days, his spine never really right until he got Merle to help him out.

"Daryl."

"_Who the fuck are you?" The rain pounded against his neck, chilling him to the bone. _

He tried to shake the voice, pulling at the broken fence again. Cattle had taken down half of it, and most of it was unfixable. They'd have to either buy new shit, or make their own. He didn't know what they did round here. Least this was something he could do.

"Daryl, did you hear me?"

"_You fuckin' hear me?" His legs shook with the effort it took _not _to take that step back. But he didn't let that stop him from standing up tall. Standing up to _him_._

He shook himself again, hating the way the goosebumps crawled over his skin. He dropped the log in a pile, his shoulder stiffer than ever, and rubbed at his face. He was tired and he just wanted to curl up next to a fire and close his eyes. But there weren't no time for that.

"Daryl!" He jerked at the feel of a hand clasping his shoulder, the ache still ever present from the storm. He turned, shook from the memory, and found the Sheriff's gaze drilling into him.

And then Dale behind him, and all the other townies who'd come to help out. Too many eyes staring at him, too many people watchin' him.

"Git tha hell off me," he growled, shaking Rick's hand off his shoulder, and moving for the truck.

He could hear Rick following him but he didn't want to stop, and he didn't want to make a scene. There were too many unfamiliar faces, and too many unfamiliar names floating through his head. The exhaustion was making him irritable and he was already on edge from last night. He wasn't ready to talk to no one about it.

"Daryl, I need to talk to you about last night." He snorted, yanking the door to the truck open. He knew Rick would come round eventually but he weren't ready to give in, and he sure as hell weren't gonna do it in front a all these people that he didn't know.

"You mean you need a statement." Rick ran a hand through his hair, for once without the hat, and looked at him pleadingly.

"Daryl," he started, voice desperate. "What the hell happened here?" Daryl took a moment, staring out at the farm. It was ruined. The pasture, once occupied by more than a hundred herd of cattle, was now void of anything.

The shed had collapsed over the hood of the truck and it had taken four people to remove the roofing, until there was enough room for Daryl to move the truck away from it. The horses had scattered, some to their own pasture, others to the river a mile off, and he hadn't seen Outlaw yet.

Now it was a mad race to catch the herd, and find those that had run off. He was getting irritated, _angrier_, by each passing second.

"Can't ya tell?" He said, glancing around. Rick eyed him, hooking a thumb through his belt. "Shit got out a hand." He turned and hopped into the truck, and went to close the door behind him.

But resistance met him, wrapping around his upper arm tightly.

"_I said who the hell are you?" A thick hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him back, turning him around. Anger ripped through him. Who the hell did this sonuvabitch think he was?_

"_Ed don't," Dale called out. How many times had Daryl's ol' man grabbed him like that, _held _him like that? _

"_Fuck off old man," Ed shouted. Daryl's jaw clenched, and he turned, slipping out from beneath the hand. It was hard to see Ed's face with the headlights shining around him and the rain falling heavy in his eyes. _

_He missed the shove directed at him and he went down on his knees. _

"Daryl, I _have_ to –" He grabbed Rick's wrist and twisted, the motion so fast Rick didn't even know what was happening. He had Rick on his knees, hand to his back.

"Don't touch me," he whispered threateningly in his ear, as he bent over Rick's prone body. "I ain't in the –" And then he was being pulled off of Rick and thrown to the ground. He looked up, and before he could do anything, he only registered the fist coming at his face.

He saw black for the briefest moment, his hands in the mud, fingers curling in the grass. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the shadow over his eyes.

"Shane don't!" And then an arm wrapped around his neck and he was being hauled off the ground, his breath cut off. He reached up, grasping at the arm around his neck.

"You wanna play rough?" Shane whispered in his ear, hot breath on his skin. Daryl coughed once, struggled against the arm around him, and panicked. White lights prickled at the corners of his eyes and he couldn't pry Shane's arm from around his neck.

_Come on lil brother. Big, bad deputy man got ya tongue? _

"Get off me!" he growled, struggling in vain at Shane's arm wrapped firmly around his neck, cutting him off. How many times had Merle put him in this same hold, laughing, thinking he was making a game of it? How many times had he ever gotten out of Merle's chokehold?

How many times had he panicked so bad that he'd made a fool of himself, unable to get out?

Rick stepped toward him, and fell to his knee in front of him. "Didn't wanna have to do this," he murmured low. Rick nodded back to Shane and he was released. Daryl stumbled forward and climbed to his feet, coughing and choking.

"Assholes," he bit back, rubbing at his neck. "Chokehold's-"

Shane laughed, mocking and harsh. "What?" he scoffed. "_Illegal?_" Daryl's eyes narrowed, and he looked at Rick. He'd thought better of the Sheriff. Thought he'd have better _friends_ than this one. "You made a move on an officer of the _law _ya inbred hick," Shane snapped, stepping toward him, hand on his holster.

Daryl inhaled deep, holding onto that breath. His jaw ached, and his fingers curled so tight in his hands they felt like they would break. "You think you can come up here," Shane threatened, closer still, "and get away with _murder_?"

Daryl felt like he had been punched again. He didn't murder nobody. He didn't even _touch _Peletier.

"_Don't touch me," he growled, taking a step back, trying to remove himself from the situation. He didn't need to make this worse. Didn't need to find himself with Peletier beneath his feet, and blood on his hands. _

_Cos if he really wanted to, he could take Peletier. _

_He could __**kill **__him. _

But he didn't. Peletier was the one who'd come up here and put hands on _him_. Peletier was the one who'd come up here looking for trouble. Daryl didn't ask for this. He'd kept his distance, knew that the minute Peletier came back he was gonna have to be on his guard. He'd never expected to get run over by the sonuvabitch.

Daryl stood, rubbing at his jaw, and shook himself. He glanced around, all those unfamiliar faces watching him in fear, like he was some kind a killer.

This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. This was what he'd expected the moment he'd come here. These people didn't know him. These people were gonna look at him and see _nobody_ and think he was capable of _anything_.

"I didn't_ murder_ nobody," he whispered heatedly in Shane's face. And for a moment, he thought he was gonna lose it, and clock Shane as he watched the smirk lift up the corner of his lip. But he backed off quick before he made the mistake of hitting this officer in the face. This wasn't the right time, and it sure as hell wasn't the right person to be gettin' involved with.

He shouldered passed Shane, moving until he was passing by Dale, and he felt there was enough space between him and _Officer _Shane.

"Daryl, I'm gonna need that statement from you," Rick called. Daryl shook his head.

"Jus' gonna hafta to get it later," he said, and pulled his crossbow out of the truck bed, and walked away.

"Oh an' Shane," he glanced back, letting the crossbow rest on his shoulder, an ease of comfort settling over him at the weight. Shane's smirk turned to a snarl and his hand went for his holster, adjusting his belt.

"That's _Deputy _ya dumb redneck." Daryl's hand curled around the crossbow tighter. Dale shook his head softly, just enough for him to see and no one else.

_Go 'head lil brother_. _Show the asshole what he don't know_. _Show him what it means to be __**Dixon**__. _

He grit his teeth, muscles clenched. All it would take is one swing for that asshole to know that he weren't gonna put up with his shit. Didn't matter if it did anything or not. Just to show this fuckin' _Deputy_ that he weren't nobody that could be pushed around.

And the one person in his head would be damn proud as hell that he did.

He turned on his heel, and swallowed hard, connecting with Shane.

"Chokehold's for pussies _Deputy_," he said with a sneer. Shane's lip curled, and he lunged at him only to be stopped by a bruising grip from Rick. He was surprised that Rick was able to keep his dog on a leash.

"Let go," Shane growled, tearing his arm from Rick's, and stalking away.

"I'm gonna have to talk to you Daryl, eventually," Rick said, watching Shane carefully. Daryl knew that at some point, the truth would have to come out. A man was lying in the hospital and people needed answers. Answers that only he could give. But right now all he wanted was to get away from all of these people and find a place where he could be himself.

And the closest place he was going to get to that was in the mountains. He needed that now, before he lost himself.

"Where are you going?" Rick called. Daryl took a deep breath, and fought the urge to keep walking away. He'd already made an enemy out of one officer; he didn't need to make two. He glanced over his shoulder, and watched as Rick fought the urge to stop him and kept his distance.

He nodded to the mountains, and held up the lead rope in his hand.

"To do my job." And he took off.

**XXX**

"_He's beautiful, isn't he?" It didn't matter what Ed thought though. He _was_ the most beautiful thing she had ever held. Small, and precious, and _hers_. His blue eyes looked up at her, round, perfect. A gift she would forever be grateful for. And like a gift, fleeting in its happiness. _

"Carol?" She flinched out of her memory, a memory she had long forgotten, had long since _pushed _away. She brushed at the tears rolling down her cheeks, and turned to find Sasha standing at the end of the hospital bed. She _hated _hospitals. Hated everything she remembered about them. There was a reason she had never visited them, no matter how bruises, wounds, and broken bones she had suffered.

Only one good thing had come from them, and Sophia never liked them either.

"I'm sorry," Sasha said, her voice filled with pity, though her eyes shifted to his body and Carol watched as uncertainty shimmered there. "I could give you more time. I hadn't realized…" Hadn't realized what? That she had wanted to be alone? That she _didn't _want to be alone? That she felt so cold in this place? That the white walls reminded her of the one thing she had kept hidden in the darkest parts of her mind?

That every time his chest rose she wanted to slam her hands back down on it and stop it?

The monitor beeped loudly at her, drawing her eyes to it.

She blanched at the thought. She was an _awful _person for wishing that on her husband. But she couldn't deny that she stood here and she waited. Waited for the moment that he opened his eyes and everything went back to exactly what it was before. Waited for the moment that he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed the life out of her for everything that had happened.

She ducked her head, and closed her eyes.

Waited for the moment when he stopped breathing and she never saw those green eyes staring back at her _ever _again.

She shook her head, her hands curled against the stiff white sheets. She couldn't bring herself to touch him even though his hand was _right there_.

How many times had those hands left a bruise along her cheek, or her arm, or her _neck_? How many times had that hand touched her when she didn't want it? How many times had that hand groped her roughly in a vain attempt to be _pleasurable_?

She shuddered at the thought. She shifted away from the bed, moving away from _him_. She would go to hell for all of the thoughts she bore against him. She would die a thousand times over for ever wishing harm against him.

"'_Then if you walk contrary to me and will not listen to me, I will continue striking you, sevenfold for your sins.'_" She murmured. How many times had she wanted Ed to die for everything he had ever done to her? How many times had she prayed for _just this_?

"What did you say?" Sasha looked at her with concern, the pitying look in her eyes making Carol feel like she couldn't do _anything_. She didn't need that pity, and she didn't need her concern.

"I'm fine," she said forcefully, and she could see in Sasha's that she didn't believe her. But Sasha said nothing further.

She nodded hesitantly and pulled out her pen. "I just need to ask you a few questions, if you can do that." She looked down at Ed, swallowing hard. She'd never be ready to face what happened. But it was either now or later, and if she did it later it would probably be to either Rick, or worse, _Shane_. Carol nodded.

"Let's start with when Ed first got home." Carol took a deep breath, watching Ed's still body.

The monitor beeped softly, the little green light jumping up.

"I…I was inside the house," she said, the memory of the night before still there, vivid and haunting.

Another beep, another jump of the light. The tube down his throat was uncomfortable to look at, and the right side of his body was covered in a mass of bruises. He had been _trampled_.

And he hadn't even seen it coming.

"I uh…I heard the truck pull up." The IV sat in his arm, dripping life into him, keeping him sustained. But it was his _heart _that kept going, on its own. What kept his heart going? What was it that _motivated _him to live?

"Carol?" She shuddered, and clasped her hands together.

"When I heard the truck through the storm, I ran down the stairs looking for Sophia," she murmured, remembering back. It was the only thing that had mattered. It was all that had _ever _mattered.

"_You're dead bitch!" She trembled, the rain so cold but his words piercing her deeper. _

"_I'm gonna-" She watched in horror, the scream stuck in her throat as she watched one of the cows take him down, its hooves running over his legs and another over his arm. _

"_ED!" _

"Carol." She jerked. Sasha's hand was gripping her softly, her eyes holding her worriedly. "Are you _sure _you're alright?" Carol sucked in a shuddering breath, and pulled her arm from Sasha's grip. She wrapped her arms around her middle and closed her eyes.

"Yes," she breathed. But she wasn't. How was she supposed to be after that? How was she supposed to _forget_ last night?

She heard Sasha sigh. "What happened after you found Sophia?" Her eyes flew open and she turned to Sasha sharply.

"I _didn't,_" she said heatedly, remembering. Her fingers dug into her sides, painfully. "I ran from the house, into the pouring rain, into the storm calling for her. But I never found her. I found _him_," she trembled, the tears slipping down her cheeks again.

"_Ed!" she screamed, for him. Why? Why was she wasting her energy on _him_? Why did it suddenly matter that she get to _him_? _

"_ED!" her lungs ached and her throat was sore. She couldn't breathe, and she couldn't feel, and she couldn't stop watching _him_. She struggled to get to him, struggled to reach him, struggled to _save _him. That's what she was doing, wasn't it? She was trying to get to him to save him? But _why_? _

"_Gotta get outta here." It was his breath, warm against her ear that stilled her. She turned to look at him, suddenly noticing his arms wrapped firmly around her, holding her back. He was between her and the cattle swarming around them. He was _protecting_ her. _

"_Daryl?" Her heart jumped at the realization that he was all around her. Holding her close to his chest, his own heart pounding a harsh, steady rhythm against her back. He was breathing heavy, his eyes dark in the night. She couldn't see what he was thinking, but she could feel his arms trembling around her. _

"_Gotta move," he yelled above the sudden crack of lighting and the cattle dispersing around them. She turned back to Ed's body, lying still on the ground. He was crumpled, bloodied, _broken_. _

_She curled into Daryl's back, her hands pressed to her mouth, pushing back the cry. _

"What happened when you found Ed, Carol? What happened?" She stared into Sasha's eyes, needing to tell her how she'd found him, needing to tell her that Ed had deserved every single hoof that had trampled him.

"I thought he was dead," she muttered.

_He was _dead_._

_She felt Daryl shudder at the proximity of her body, at the way she pressed closer. How many times had he left her the same way? How many times had she been left bloodied, broken on the kitchen floor, on the bedroom floor, on the bathroom floor, and wondered if she would survive what had been done? It wasn't just her body that had been broken, it was her spirit. _

_She was dead inside. _

_And now, as she watched Ed be trampled into the ground, she didn't even care that the cattle were a threat to her as well. Her life didn't matter. _

_All that mattered was that he never get back up, ever again. _

"Where was Daryl when you found Ed?" She looked up confused.

"What about Daryl?" Sasha was quiet a moment, her pen still. And the realization of the question slowly dawned on Carol and the anger boiled low in her stomach.

"Daryl was out there, trying to save _me_," she said vehemently. "You think _Daryl _knocked the cattle loose on Ed? You think he pushed him down in the mud and got the cattle in a frenzy all to trample Ed?" She said louder, her voice nearly at a scream. She could see people stopping outside the door to stare in, but she didn't care.

"_Ed _was the one who came home, after selling _my horse_ might I remind you, _without _my consent and started this trouble. He went out there for whatever goddamn reason of his, because he _always _has one, and I don't know what he wanted! Daryl hadn't even _met _Ed before! Ed probably had some idiotic notion in his head that Daryl and I were having an affair! From one stupid glance at Daryl! That's how Ed works!" she screamed, her body tingling, unable to breath and unable to stop the tears. "He doesn't care about anything but _himself_ Sasha," she whispered vehemently, clutching at her purse, at the last of her strength, unable to believe that she had just said all of those things in the presence of Ed.

Sasha stood, stunned.

"He takes the best parts of you and he _crushes _them, makes you believe that you're the one who's wrong _every – single – time. _Even when you know that you had no control," she whispered, gasping for air, "he still has you believing that it was _your fault._"

"_He's dead," Ed said harshly, and walked away, the disgust clear on his face. _

_At first, she ignored him, clutching her son closer to her chest. She caressed his cheek, tears of joy sliding down her face. He was everything she had ever wanted. She didn't care what she had done to get him, the nights she had suffered. She had seven blissful months of quiet reprieve. There was less fighting, less hitting, less yelling. For once, Ed was a human being. _

"_What should we call him?" she whispered, loving the feel of him in her arms. But it didn't matter what Ed wanted to call him. She already had a name picked out. He was joy personified. He was love in physical form. This is what she had been waiting for her whole life. _

"_Sawyer," she murmured, pressing her head gently to his. _

"_He's dead bitch!" She froze, pulling away from Sawyer slowly. "He's fucking dead and it's _your fault_." Ed leaned in close, but she couldn't stop staring down at the child in her arms; the one whose body did not move, whose eyes did not seek her out, whose body was cold, lifeless. _

"_It's your fucking fault that I don't have a son. It's your goddamn body that couldn't hold him. It's your body that can't do anything," he whispered vehemently in her ear, where no else could hear, clutching at her shoulder so hard she almost screamed out. _

_And then he pulled away and walked out of the room. _

_And she was left alone, as the pain consumed her. _

"It wasn't my fault," she cried out, pressing her hands to her face.

"Carol!" She flinched as hands pressed firmly on her shoulders. She looked up through the blur of her tears and her fingers, and saw Sasha instead of Ed, and behind her now stood Jacqui, looking worried.

"Sasha, I think that's enough for now," Jacqui said firmly, pulling Sasha away from her. She shuddered, and curled inward, turning away from the women staring at her. Sasha watched her a moment before nodding and walking out. Carol breathed, and sank into the chair behind her, the tears falling hard.

"If you need _anything_," Jacqui said warmly, taking her hand in hers, "you call me." Carol's chest clenched, and she nodded, needing to be alone.

And when Jacqui finally left, she broke down in sobs. _This _was why she never came to the hospital. This was why she suffered every broken bone, bruise, and wound. Every time she came here, every time she sat in these white rooms she _remembered_.

And if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

"If I'm not being haunted by you," she whispered, staring at Ed's still body, the monitor blipping back at her, "it's by the pain of the past."

She buried her head in her hands, and shuddered out a breath, unable to stop the tears.

"And it was your fault," she whispered. "_You_ took him from _me_."

**XXX**

It was like finding home. It was like being able to breathe again.

Once he put the farm behind him, and the mountains above him it was like he'd never left home. This was the feeling he'd been missing all along, the one where he knew exactly who he was. He didn't have nobody telling him what to do, or what he was doing wrong. Didn't have to worry about nobody watching him all the time.

This was his life. This was who he was.

Tracking and hunting. Finding a trail where nobody else could. He was best at _this_.

And he was gonna find them horses, and those stray cattle. And he weren't gonna need nobodies help to do it.

He hitched the crossbow higher on his back. The lead rope felt unfamiliar around his neck but he didn't know what else to do with it, so he opted for hanging it around his neck, keeping it out of his way, but still easy to grab.

He trudged along a trail that looked marked by years, one that must have been used by Carol many times. It was too wide for humans and he could just make out recent prints left by a horse.

He didn't think they'd taken a ride recently, so he knew it had to of been one of the horses. The only guess was to which one.

If it was Molly or Bluebird he figured he could do it, lead'em back home. He'd watched Carol rope'em in with nice words and calm hand gestures once. So how hard could it be?

Didn't take a genius to know that they liked to be treated with respect and love, just as anybody did.

He spotted a deer trail that veered off to the left and further into the forest, but the horse trail kept going straight. And as much as he wanted to hunt the deer he knew he needed to find the horse before nightfall. He didn't know what was out here, but he knew what _could_ be out here; bears, wolves, and he knew some kind of cat. He weren't sure, but he didn't want to be out here to find out.

That was when he heard water. He listened hard, straining his ears for the direction it came from.

When he was sure of where it was he took off, keeping eye of the tracks before him. And when he slipped around a wide tree, pushing some branches away he saw her.

"Bluebird," he whispered. He recognized her light grey coat, so light it was almost white. Her black mane and legs gave her away though. He'd never seen a black and white quite like her.

He stepped toward her, careful not to spook her. Her head jerked up, her black mane swinging in the sunlight that tried to peek through gray clouds. The rain may have stopped but the sun still hadn't come out yet. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him and she snorted. She tiptoed a few steps nervously and backed away.

And he froze, not knowing what to do.

_Cat go ya tongue lil brother?_

"Shit." He didn't know what to do. Here she was, ready for him to take back and he didn't even know how to approach her.

_Ain't got the balls Darylena. Bitches can sense that, _he laughed mockingly.

"Fuckin' shut it," he growled at the voice, tightening his hand on the strap across his chest. He looked down and saw the crossbow and the rope hanging there.

"Idiot," he muttered, and pulled the lead rope over his head. Maybe she'd see the rope and know he just wanted to take her home. Least he could do was try the damn thing since that was what he brought it out here for.

He held it loosely in his hand, and watched her reaction. He didn't want to scare her off. He'd seen how fast these things could run and he didn't need her takin' off. He'd lose her then and there was no tellin' how far she'd go.

"Hey there Bluebird," he tried, soft as he could. Laughter echoed around him, and he clenched his jaw tight, fighting back the urge to scream at it.

He took a step toward her and she shifted, eyes getting bigger. He tried taking another step toward her and she danced back two more steps, tossing her head back with a whinny.

"Goddammit!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in frustration.

_Never did like nothin' that was bigger'n ya. _He forced out a breath, and inhaled, ignoring the voice. _Couldn't control what ya couldn't fight, _he whispered dangerously.

Daryl closed his eyes and slumped to his knees. It was true. He'd never liked it, but he was afraid of anything that was bigger'n him. He couldn't fight it, couldn't defend against it. Couldn't do _nothing_. He was powerless.

That was how the horses made him feel. _Powerless_. Made him feel stupid, and worthless. He left Georgia cos a that shit. He'd left his ol' man and Merle behind cos a that. He opened his eyes, and found Bluebird's. And this time he could see in her eyes the fear that he didn't see before.

She was just as afraid as he was. He laughed softly.

"Bluebird," he said, pulling the crossbow over his head and setting it on the ground. "Ironic yer name's Bluebird. Can't escape nothing," he sighed, letting his arms go lax at his side. He sat down, crossing his legs.

"Got history with that name," he said absently, looking up at the branches above him, the clouds beyond that. He caught the edge of a birds wings in the dim sunlight, and heard the rustle of an animal nearby. "Ma used to tell me this story about these Indians, these _Cherokee_." The sun peeked through an opening in the clouds above him, lighting up the glade. Course, the Cherokee had special meaning to his Ma. Didn't mean they meant nothing to him. He just remembered the story pretty damn well.

"Weren't no happy story, that's fer damn sure. But Ma always had a way with words," he murmured, remembering. In fact, his Ma had told it to him in a place that weren't much different than this; in the woods, beneath the mountains on a hot summer day in Georgia. Course Ma had been drunk on wine, and he could remember the smell of her Virginia Slims like they were burning right now.

"She could tell you something and have you believing it six ways from Sunday," he whispered softly, still able to hear her voice, still able to feel her fingers brushing across his forehead. He closed his eyes, remembering, one of the softest touches he'd ever received from her.

Ma did a lot a things wrong, didn't always do right by him an' Merle in the end. But that didn't mean he loved her something.

"Cherokee had a word for Bluebird," he said, opening his eyes to watch the light play in the trees, twisting the rope between his fingers. He could remember all the times he and his Ma had gone out into the woods beneath the mountains of his Georgia, how they'd retreat to this little spot they'd claimed their own all to escape his ol' man.

She'd told him a lot a things out there in them woods. Things bout the stars, and his ol' man, and what Bluebird meant to her.

"_Tsa-quo'-la-de__,_" he whispered, letting the word roll off his tongue like it was still yesterday that she'd told him, and he was only seven. He glanced around quick, suddenly aware that he'd let slip the one thing he'd never wanted anyone to know.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he was still alone.

Couldn't believe he could remember it. He remembered the day she told him that, and what it had meant, that Bluebird was her name. Something the Cherokee had given her. He didn't know if he really believed it, but he didn't not believe it either.

She'd told him a lot of Cherokee stuff that day. 'Bout tears and babies and flowers. He never forgot the way she sounded; sad and angry, like it had happened to her. He didn't know much about his Ma, but he knew about her moods and he knew when she was tellin' the truth and when she was lyin'. His Ma hadn't been lyin' then, when she had told him about her name. And that made him wonder about a lot a things. About her, and about him. Who he really was.

Suddenly, he felt a rush of breath across his face and he looked up startled to find Bluebird looking down at him. He went stiff, his blood cold at the sight of her standing so big before him. Her nostrils flared at each breath she took, and she nudged his face, her nose cold. He flinched, unsure of what to do. He'd never faced a horse like this before. But he couldn't let her get away now that she was right here.

And then she reached over and started nibbling on his shirt near his shoulder.

"Hey now!" he scolded, and she bent her head lower until she was looking up at him, as if through her lashes and she nudged his chest this time.

And he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

"Yer trouble, ain't ya," he murmured, reaching up to pet her. She never took her eyes off his as he slowly rubbed her face, still hesitant about this big animal standing over him. It still made him nervous, but he didn't feel threatened by her.

He chuckled. "Whole lotta trouble," he whispered, as she rubbed her face in his chest. He swallowed hard.

"Alright now," he said firmly, grabbing hold of the rope and holding it up for her to see. She tossed her head back, her black mane shining in the sunlight. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

She didn't step away from him though and he took that as a good sign. He stood up cautiously, and held his hands out, waiting for another move or her to run away.

But she just budged him none too gently, and he shook his head.

"Fine," he said, and clipped the rope to her halter. "Let's get back then." He started off, picking up his crossbow.

And before he could take a step she was draping her head over his shoulder and rubbing her face along his.

He couldn't stop the laugh that echoed around them both, surprising himself, and scattering the birds to the sky.

**XXX**

"_Mrs. Peletier? Can you hear me? Mrs. Peletier?" She was floating. She could see bits of color and sense only the bodies as they shifted around her. It was _impossible_. _

"_Carol?" She looked up, slowly, confused. _

"_Do you know where you are?" She looked around, taking in the white walls and the white jacketed people. And then the smell hit her and she knew. She didn't want to be here. She hated this place and everything it reminded her of. _

"_Hospital," she whispered, staring at the emergency doors as they opened and two EMT's walked in. She knew Ed had come through those doors. _

"_Yes Carol, you are. Do you know _why_ you're here?" She looked back at the doctor and realized that it wasn't just any doctor; it was a friend._

"_Jacqui," she murmured, reaching up, grasping at her collar. Jacqui smiled warmly, her hand pressed gently into her shoulder, comfortingly. _

_And then Carol saw her hand, saw her hand covered in blood, looked down at her other hand and saw her lap covered in blood._

_And she screamed. _

"Carol!" She woke, screaming, to someone shaking her and calling out her name. Jacqui stood above her, and Dr. Jenner behind Jacqui. They both stared at her, worry heavy in their eyes. She wiped at her face, and slumped forward, trying to catch her breath.

"Carol, are you alright?" She felt Jacqui's hand on her back, comforting and yet binding at the same time. She nodded, and pulled away from Jacqui, feeling a tremble take over her.

"I'm fine," she muttered. She looked up at them both, and realized that something was wrong.

"What happened?" She said standing up. She glanced down at Ed, and saw that he was the same as before, as least to her eyes.

Jenner stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"Mrs. Peletier –"

"Carol," she interrupted. He looked down at Ed, and nodded absently.

"Carol." He flipped a page over his clipboard and adjusted his glasses. "There's been no change in Ed's status. His vitals are as stable as can be for now, but his brain continues to show no signs of activity." Carol swallowed hard, her eyes finding Ed.

She didn't know what she had expected, but she wasn't sure this was it.

"So what are you saying? Is he dead? Is he alive?" Jenner pressed the clipboard to his side, and took his glasses off, pressing his lips together tightly.

"He's alive, albeit on the life-support. Whether his body will recover is what remains to be seen. But it is his brain that concerns me." She looked at Jacqui, still not sure she was understanding.

"Right now, we have him in an induced coma, to protect his brain from further damage. But…" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "To be blunt, he may never wake up. You can choose to keep him on life-support, on the chance that he may recover and wake up."

Carol felt the shock slowly seep into her bones, and she fell into her chair. That wasn't all he was saying though. There was more.

"Or?" she whispered, wondering what her other option was.

Jacqui stepped forward, reaching out to touch her shoulder softly.

"Or you could take him off life-support and see if he recovers on his own. He may or may not, and depending on the state of his injuries he will either recover of his own accord and wake up..." He trailed off and Carol looked up, her nerves tight, her body coiled.

"Or what?" she asked desperately, needing to know. She had to hear it from him. She had to know what that the final outcome of this might be.

"Or he'll die." And if she had thought that a burden would be lifted by those words, she was wrong. It was like she was drowning, and someone was holding her under the water.

**XXX**

Bluebird continued to nudge and nibble him all the way back, and he couldn't hide the smile from his face. And he knew Dale had seen it, the moment their eyes met.

"Alright Blue," he growled gently, reaching back to pet her, "enough now." She snorted, and bumped his shoulder.

"Daryl." He glanced over his shoulder, avoiding Dale's eyes this time. He was already embarrassed thinking about his walk back with Bluebird, and he didn't need Dale to see him lookin' all chummy with the horse.

"Good," he said gratefully, patting Bluebird's side. "She's the last one, other than Outlaw." Daryl looked about confused.

"You mean…" Dale nodded at his unfinished sentence.

"That's right. Molly and Foxtrot already came back on their own about an hour ago. Seems you fared rather well with the young Bluebird here," he said, eyeing him questionably, the corner of his lip tilting just the slightest.

Daryl ducked his head, knowing his face was going red, hating that it had.

"Ain't nothin' but a damn horse. Weren't nothin' to it," he muttered hotly, tossing the rope over to Dale quickly.

"Is that so?" Dale asked wonderingly, looking up at Bluebird, patting her gently. She reached over to give Daryl's shirt another nibble and he bit his lip, not knowing whether he should pull away or let her be.

"Seems she's taken a liking to you," Dale commented absently, pulling her away from his shirt and guiding her away.

"How would you know?" he growled, letting his walls come back up, turning away from them.

"Bluebird's got a good head on her," Dale said, Bluebird dancing next to him, tossing her head back as he said so. "She knows who's genuine," and he began to walk away, pulling Bluebird along gently, "and who isn't." Dale glanced over his shoulder and let their eyes connect for a moment.

Dale turned away from him and led Bluebird back to the pasture where the others waited for her. And Daryl stood there, quiet, feeling as if someone had just stripped him of his clothes.

**XXX**

She leaned forward over his body, taking in the tubes and the monitors. Pausing a moment on each bruise and wound, on his swollen shoulder and the cast on his arm. He was a patchwork of white and ugly discolor. And as much as she hated to think it, she wasn't upset by it. It was _retribution_.

But the monitor blipped, signaling his heartbeat, which was still going, _always going_. Didn't matter what had happened to him, he was still here to haunt her. Didn't matter how much he had hurt her, he never paid for it.

"All you've ever done is hurt me," she said, her voice shaky. "Hurt _us_," she whispered vehemently.

_Blip_

The tears slid down her cheeks, hot, and accusing. "All Sophia ever wanted was a _father_ and you've done nothing but _hurt _her. Ignore her. You don't even _pretend_ to love her. All she's ever wanted is for you to _see _her as your daughter," she whispered fiercely, hating that Ed had to be unconscious for her to confront him.

But it didn't matter. She couldn't stop the words now.

_Blip_

"And _me_?" she spat furiously. Her hands were gripping the bedrail tightly, knuckles white. "You _beat _me, knock me to the ground, and abuse me. But I can take that Ed," she murmured, swallowing hard. "I can take the punches and the slaps and every shove. But when you tell me that I'm _ugly_? When you tell me that I should never have been _born _into this world?" The tears blurred her vision and her head bowed, until she was falling to her knees at his bedside. "When you tell me that no one will _ever_ love me?"

She choked on a sob and reached into her pocket, pulling the switchblade out. The blade caught on her pocket, tearing the edge and she fumbled with it, her hands shaking furiously. She stared at it, watching her reflection in the blade.

"I gave you everything Ed," she said as her breath hitched. "All I have _ever _done was love you."

_Blip_

But it had never been enough. No matter what she had done it was never good enough. She had given him everything since the day she had married him. And what had he given her in return?

"_Nothing_," she murmured, getting to her feet, the switchblade clutched tightly in her hand.

"You've done _nothing_ for me in return. And now?" She looked down on him, feeling the anger of the last twenty-two years consume her.

_Blip_

"Now you're paying for it," she growled. If he came back, he'd kill her. She knew that. He'd gone out there with the intent to harm Daryl, she could see that now. Daryl had done nothing, and Ed wouldn't have had any knowledge of who Daryl was. But he saw Daryl and went for him. Ed was crazy, and mean and he was _evil_.

And if he woke up now, she was dead.

She leaned over him, her breath hitching in her throat as she closed the space between them. She had to place her hands on either side of his head to steady herself, and the blade gleamed in the dim hospital light near his head. For a moment, she was mesmerized by it. She had never once thought she would be able to get the blade so close to Ed's neck before.

She looked down, and took a deep breath.

_Blip_

He smelled like disinfectant, far from his usual sweat and booze. And his face was pallid and bruised, the tube from his mouth making her queasy.

"_Induced coma."_

He was still in there, still alive. It didn't matter what happened to Ed, he was like a damn cockroach. They just didn't die.

She blanched, the thought scaring her. But it was true. He wouldn't ever die. He wouldn't ever leave her. The tears fell, and she bit her lip to stop the sob.

_Blip_

"I hate you," she whispered hotly, and leaned back suddenly, raising the switchblade over her head and slamming it down. She was trembling, breathing hard, her knees shaking. She wished this would all just end. She wanted to go home and sleep. She wanted to ride hard and fast and forget everything. She wished none of this had happened.

She closed her eyes, falling to her knees once more, her head resting against the cold rail.

"I hate what you've done to me."

The monitor blipped.

**XXX**

He was helping a man named Jim carry the wood that was still usable to places around the fence where it needed to be mended. There was a comfortable enough silence between him and Jim, once they'd gotten passed introductions and an awkward silence.

Jim grunted and the log slipped from his hands, falling to the ground. He huffed, and wiped at the sweat on his face.

"So," Jim offered, and Daryl took a deep, annoying breath. "How'd this happen?" He looked back, stunned that Jim had even asked. Every else had kept their distance and hadn't bothered to talk to him. Jim was the only one who'd volunteered to help him.

"How'd _what _happen?" he grunted quietly, hoping that Jim wasn't asking what he thought he was. Jim picked his end back up and they continued walking again. It wasn't heavy, and Daryl suspected he could have done it on his own but Dale didn't want him to injure himself when it could be prevented.

"The stampede," he said, shifting the log higher, "how'd it happen. Did Ed really drive that truck at you, into the fence?" Daryl stopped walking and glanced back at Jim, not caring what his face said.

Damn these people and their gossip. Damn these people and their judgments. He didn't need this shit.

"Gimme this," he said roughly, and pulled the log from Jim's hands, grunting with the weight, and storming to the fence.

He hated this, hated them _all_.

He was straining with the weight when he let it fall to the ground, and he breathed in relief when it was gone. He rolled his shoulder, pain shooting down his arm and his back, shot to hell now.

_That there Dixon pride lil brother_, a harsh laugh mocking him.

He kicked at the fence and grunted, taking off toward the stable where Dale was. He wasn't gonna sit round here and put up with this. This was why he'd gone after Bluebird in the first place – didn't need to be judged by these people, questioned by them. He knew who he was, and what he was capable of.

If they didn't know that Peletier was an asshole who deserved nothing less than what he got, then they were all dumbasses.

"Dale," he called, rounding the corner and hearing voices coming out of the doors. He slowed down, and went in quietly. He recognized the voice he heard, the very first that had actually welcomed him into this town. He watched them from afar, not really able to see them from the furthest end, as they stood near the other entrance. He could only make out the blonde he'd first met and the sheriff's wife. The other's stood outside the stable, behind the wall.

"I _mean _she's decided." _Andrea_ – that was her name with her big smile and those interrogating eyes.

"What did she decide?" A female voice he didn't recognize, probably the brunette from that Greene farm. She sounded sad.

"She's taking him off life-support. She's going to see what happens after…" The silence in the stable was deafening, and then everyone exploded.

"What do you mean she's taking him off life support? He needs that to survive!"

"It's her choice Allen. I think it's about time she finally make one that's _hers_," the sheriff's wife said fiercely, taking a defensive step toward the one that had spoken.

"You can't really mean that Lori. This is _her husband_ we're talking about. The man who provides for her." Someone snorted derisively.

"You've got to be kidding me! The man _beats _her George, or are you just too stupid and blind to notice?" That was Karen, the feisty brunette that had a son of her own. She had made it obvious what she thought of him, and he liked that better than the others hiding behind their sidelong glances and their whispers. At least he knew where she stood.

"That's enough now," Dale said, loud enough to be heard above the others. "It's Carol's decision, and it's _her_ husband. If this is what she thinks is best, then it's what's best. For _her_." Daryl could just make Dale out, giving them a pointed look. They were all silenced.

"That's what matters."

Daryl hadn't thought much of what might happen to Ed, just as long as nothing came back on him. But thinking about it now, thinking about Carol choosing life or death for a man that had held hers in his hands for who knew how many years set his teeth on edge. And as soon as the thought dropped into his head, the thought that -

He was running, running so far from the farm and so fast that his chest hurt.

He only took the time the grab his crossbow before he disappeared through the trees.

**XXX**

"Are you sure Carol?" She couldn't take her eyes off Ed. She knew what Dr. Jenner was asking her though.

Are you _sure _you want to let him go?

Are you _sure _you can face his death?

Are you _sure _you actually want to take that chance that he won't come back?

And that was when she knew. She knew that no matter the chances whether it was twenty-five, forty-nine, or ninety-nine percent. She knew what the answer was.

"I'm ready," she whispered. She looked up, her eyes meeting Dr. Jenner's and she saw the very question he was asking.

_Are you sure you're ready for this? _

It didn't matter if she was or not. She couldn't let this go on one minute more. He was gone. He wasn't coming back right now. In the simplest of terms he was _dead. _His heart worked, his lungs, his muscles, every part of him worked thanks to the machines. Except for his brain.

The one part that he needed the most. The only part that mattered. And it was dead.

She laughed, a short, cruel burst that sent tears down her face.

"It has to be now," she bit through her pinched lips, fighting back the sobs. Jenner nodded and turned to Jacqui.

"Jacqui will give you some forms to sign, in that you give consent to see if the patient's life will sustain itself _without _life-support. They also explain that you understand that his body is not at its proper level, that he is brain dead and therefore his chance of survival is _very small_. The papers explain that you have decided not to wait to see if he recovers any functioning _before _seeing if his brain _and _body will respond on its own. Do you understand?" But she didn't really hear him. All she could see was Ed, lying on the bed before her.

Was this really happening? Was he really going to die?

Would he never take another breath again? Would his chest truly stop rising?

Would he never be able to hurt her, _ever again_?

"Give them to me," she whispered, taking the clipboard from Jacqui forcefully. She didn't even bother to read them, just signed her name where the large black X waited for her at the bottom.

She could see them exchange glances but ignored it. She had to do it before she lost the courage.

Would Ed do the same for her? Would he have given her the same chance at life if he was in this position? She wasn't sure that he would.

And so she waited, painfully, as Jenner and Jacqui prepared to take Ed off the life support. And the more she watched, the more she waited, the more it felt like _she_ was killing him.

And that was eating her alive.

"When will you be ready?" Jenner turned to her, understanding clear in his eyes, and he nodded just barely.

"Soon," he said. But it wasn't soon enough and when the time finally came she could barely breathe. She wanted to get out of there. She didn't want to be there to watch him die, not when it felt like she was the one pulling the trigger. Because she was sure that's how this was going to end, in his his death. He couldn't come out alive after this, could he? Not after everything he had ever done to her.

How many times had he wrapped his fingers around her throat and she thought she would die? How many times had he threatened to kill her with her words? How many times had he left her mottled with bruises by his fists?

How many times had he left her _broken_ and not even cared?

So why should she care now? _Why_? Why did his life matter one damn bit when he'd never cared for hers?

"I'll return in a moment, and we'll begin," Jenner said as he left. She didn't notice as she bowed her head, her hands trembling in her lap.

"_But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, __bless those who curse you,_" she took a shuddering breath, and clasped her hands together, knowing now why she had fought to keep Ed alive within herself.

"_Pray for those who abuse you._" She felt Jacqui's hand rest firmly on her shoulder and squeeze.

It didn't matter what this may look like, or what anyone thought of her. He was dead, and she wasn't going to keep him alive any longer. She would only torture herself waiting for the day that he woke up, waiting in dread as he never did.

That was a pain she could not bear.

Jenner came back, and the trembling in her hands became so bad that she had to intertwine them together so tightly that they began to ache.

Jenner said some words, his mouth moving, but she heard nothing. She only nodded, and she watched as he started pressing buttons and unplugging things and soon she could hear the beep, echoing on its own.

_Ed_.

He was unplugged from the life-support and he was _still _here. She almost laughed, but choked on it and felt her body shake.

And _then_ it happened. The green line that represented his life dipped lower, went longer without coming up.

She watched as the life left his body, and the color drain from his face. And she felt the panic constrict her chest. She couldn't breathe and it was like the world was crashing around her.

He was fighting it. She could feel it. He was struggling, _gasping _for air. He wasn't going to die. She would never be rid of him. He'd haunt her, forever. He'd taken _everything_ from her and he was still managing to do that, even in death.

It was his hands, and every bruise and pain they left on her. It was his mouth and every vile taste he imparted her with. It was his eyes, and the way he would look at her with such hatred or the way he would look at Sophia, _not _his daughter but something more.

It was _Ed_.

"Carol! Stop!" She felt Jacqui's hands pulling on her arms hard and looked around, and realized that it wasn't Ed who gasping for air, but _her_. And that she had her hands around his neck.

She pulled back like she'd been hit hard, and her vision swam. She fell to the ground, her legs shaking hard as Jenner's voice talked around her, distorted.

And when she looked up she watched as the green line ran, and the scream echoed in her head, loud and louder still until it was cut off.

And he was gone, the silence so loud that she couldn't take it anymore. She had to leave. She had to get out of there. She stood up, with the help of Jacqui and couldn't stop the trembling. Jenner was saying something to her, about Ed and being dead, but she didn't hear him. It didn't matter.

This was all that she had ever wanted, but she couldn't take it. She had to _go_.

"Mom?" Carol heard the voice but couldn't believe it as her eyes found the doorway. And there stood Sophia, her face a mask of horror, eyes wide as she took in the sight of Ed, lifeless on the bed.

"Sophia?" she called weakly. Jenner's voice crashed over her, Jacqui clutching at her arm and talking into her ear, talking to Sophia and it was deafening and it was so loud and she couldn't move and she didn't know what to say.

Ed was dead and she had never wanted Sophia to see him like this, to see it happen. This was her burden to carry. This was her _sin_.

"Sophia – "

And she ran.

* * *

**A/N**: Okay, so doctor lingo I just made up. Bluebird is a **Blue Roan**. I may have said differently in a previous chapter but this is now set in stone. Thank you so much for reading, and STILL being here and being the BEST EVER.

I swear the angst will die down _soon_. SOON. I just hope you all can hold on just a bit longer.

I love you guys.


	10. Safe and Sound

**Noxi: **Yeah, this took me just as long as the others and for that I apologize. I can't thank you all enough for still being here, for _wanting _to be here, and for continuing to share this journey with me. I have never been more grateful for a fanbase than you all.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Safe and Sound

_She hesitated a moment, as her hand wrapped around his palm, and he didn't know where her trembling began and his ended. Goosebumps littered his arm and he swallowed hard. He could remember the last time he'd held someone's hand before, and his Ma didn't count for much._

_He adjusted his crossbow across his chest again, trying to ignore the way his palm itched._

_He didn't know these mountains, or the darkness that surrounded them. He didn't like that, wished in that moment for any kind a Georgia. _That _was his home. That was what he knew best. _

_He shook his head once, jaw clenching at the thought. _

This_ was home now. That was the choice he'd made when he'd come here._

_He looked behind him, at her face, ghostly in the dark. _

She _was a part of his life now. Somethin' he could protect. And she was right here in front of him; real, solid in his grasp, and she needed him. Not like the ghosts that were haunting him, the things he couldn't see if they were real or not. _

_He clutched at the strap, holding onto that the familiar weight on his back. It gave him strength, made him feel in control. Didn't matter where he was. He was the best damn tracker no matter what. _

_He grunted, and tugged her along. _

**xXx**

Someone was cradling her hand but she barely noticed. She was staring at the white-washed walls as the people bustled around her. It was any other day, except _she _was the one who had lost something.

She was the one who supposed to be sad.

Because he was dead.

_Gone_.

Never coming back.

Ed was gone forever and that should have meant…something. It should have made her feel _something_. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. She had taken his life, and it wouldn't have been right for her to be relieved about that. But she couldn't be sad either.

Because now he would never be able to hurt her again.

"I have to go." She turned, shifting, the world coming at her fast and she found Jacqui at her side; quiet, and unmoving. Jacqui was watching her, concerned yet she still nodded her head.

"What about Ed?" Carol shook her head, pulling her hand away. She picked up her purse, slung her sweater over her arm and closed her eyes as the walls began to shift unsteadily.

"Carol?" She gripped her stomach, swallowing hard, pulling herself together.

"I have to go," she repeated, much firmer this time. She had to get out of there. She had to go _home_. Sophia had been here, but now she _wasn't_. And right now, that's who she needed. Her baby. Her little girl. The one thing she had left in this world that had ever mattered to begin with.

"Carol!" Jacqui called as Carol took off, leaving her behind, all of her questions unanswered. She couldn't deal with him right now. And why did she have to? She'd been dealing with him her whole life. And now?

Now she was finally free to make her own choices without fear of punishment for them.

"What about Ed?" Jacqui yelled down the white hallways after her as she pushed passed the bodies, stopping before the automatic sliding doors. She turned around to see that Jacqui had followed her, stopping halfway.

"What about him?" she said back, void of any feeling. But she could see the look on Jacqui's face, and she knew that Jacqui would never understand why Carol just _couldn't _deal with Ed right now. So she turned and walked out the sliding doors into the brisk air that nipped at her bare skin to find her daughter.

**xXx**

He was running hard, running until his lungs burned. And then he was running some more.

He didn't know where he was going, but he kept the sun at his back and that was good enough for him. The farm was in the direction of the setting sun and the farther he got from it, the better.

_-Ya think it's gonna get better boy?-_

He missed a step, and nearly fell, stumbling back into running step. A deer sprang out of the trees next to him, running beside him for a moment before taking off faster ahead of him, disappearing into the shadows.

_-You think shit's gon' change?- _

He ducked his head, the sweat dripping into his eyes. He tried to shake the voice away but failed.

_-Ya think I wouldn'ta done you in too boy!?-_

He flinched, glancing up quickly.

"Fuck!" he screamed and he skidded, trying to stop himself, but it was too late.

His momentum carried him off the ledge and over. And he was free-falling, in the late afternoon sun over the tops of the trees below him. For a moment, it was as if he was actually flying. For a moment, he felt a sudden wave of freedom wash over him.

And then gravity pulled him down and he crashed through the branches, each one trying to grab at him in vain, leaving another pain behind. He had a fleeting thought that he should be so lucky the ledge he jumped from hadn't been worse.

And then the ground came rushing up to meet him and his last image was of his ol' man standing over him, fists baring down, and the pain exploding in his head was more excruciating than ever.

And the darkness covered him.

**xXx**

She sat in the car, engine off, watching as people stood gathered near her barn, a few others working to repair the mangled shed.

But what kept her there was that she could _tell_ that they were talking about her. It didn't take a genius to know. It was obvious in the way they kept glancing over their shoulders, or the way Dale kept interjecting or how Lori's face was set in anger. She _knew_.

And she wasn't sure she wanted to face that right now.

All she wanted to do was find Sophia, and curl up on the couch with her. Maybe make some hot cocoa. It wasn't cold enough for it, but she could sure use the comfort of it.

But she knew that Sophia had somehow gotten to the hospital, and _someone _had to of driven her there. They had too. Sophia didn't _walk _to the hospital. And that left only a few people that Sophia would ask. So she had to get out of the car. She had to face those scrutinizing faces. She had to face their judgments.

She took a deep breath and got out, thinking only about Sophia. And it was her door slamming shut that got everyone's attention and running toward her.

Lori got to her first.

"Carol, my god, are you okay?" She realized she must have looked terrible. She nodded, watching as the others formed a loose circle around her, making her feel uncomfortable.

"Shouldn't you be at the hospital?" Dale asked. She swallowed nervously.

"I needed to come home," she said quietly, and a few faces nodded, but she could see a few others didn't. It was how they crossed their arms, and looked down at her from their noses.

"Carol, I'm so sorry," she heard Lori say but she wasn't really listening.

Strangely, it was _Daryl's _face she was looking for amongst all of the familiar ones that stood before her. As much as she appreciated Lori's support and Dale's, she found herself looking desperately for his face in the crowd, expecting his piercing blue eyes to be gazing back at her.

And when she didn't find them, she realized she was disappointed.

"Carol?"

"Where's Sophia?" she asked, her second realization dawning fast, as her true intentions of coming home so quickly came rushing back. She turned to Dale and clutched his arm tight.

"She's here, right?" Dale looked at her confused, resting a firm hand comfortingly over hers.

"I haven't seen her Carol," Dale said, an edge lacing his voice as he too realized what that meant.

"You mean you didn't take her to the hospital, you didn't bring her back home?" She was frantic now, fighting her breath. The others looked around, confused.

Dale shook his head; worry clear in his eyes now as he looked around the farm. "To be honest, I haven't seen her all afternoon," he admitted nervously.

Panic coiled in her chest. "Dale, what do you _mean _you haven't seen her?" She practically screamed at him, but she pulled back, her voice tightening.

She teetered, her vision suddenly blurry as she realized that the last time she had seen Sophia was at the hospital, nearly two hours ago. And she had seen her father dead, on a bed, and Carol nearly helping him along.

"Dale where is she?!" she screamed, clutching at his arms.

Dale grabbed her by the shoulders and took a deep breath, holding her gaze. "Carol," he murmured, and she shuddered, feeling her heart breaking little by little. Was this to be her punishment, for letting Ed go?

Was she to lose the only person she had ever loved?

"I can't lose her Dale," she whispered, as her eyes burned. "Not her too."

"Carol," Dale said firmly, "stop. Stop it." He steered her away from the others, and she was grateful for it. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Good," he said, watching as she tried to calm herself. "Now let's think about this. Sophia's a smart girl. Maybe she just went for a walk." Carol shook her head, remembering the hospital, remembering the way she had looked when she had seen Ed.

"No," she whispered desperately, "no." Dale looked confused.

"She saw him Dale," she said, her voice breaking. For a second, Dale's confusion stood and then it was gone, replaced by a grim realization.

He was nodding then. "Alright, well, we know she's just like you," he said reasonably, looking about. Carol didn't understand what he meant.

He chuckled. "She's always going to a place that comforts her when she's upset," he explained. "You know Sophia, Carol. Where does she go when she's most upset?"

Carol thought for a moment about all the places that had ever felt like safety to her daughter. Usually she went to Bluebird, the one companion she could always count on when anything went wrong.

But now, she couldn't. Home wasn't the same anymore. _She _had done that.

"Carol," Dale said softly, and she shook her head, still trying to think.

So now that she didn't have home, and Bluebird, where else would she have gone?

"There's this place," she said, remembering all the times Sophia had come home from a ride with Bluebird quiet and solemn, but happy. She had asked her once where she had gone, and Sophia had only replied, "_where the sun is always shining._" And when she had laughed, and said that sun shines everywhere up here, Sophia had said, "_yes, but it always makes me feel better. Even when I don't think I can._"

Carol had never heard her daughter talk like that before, nor did she think she was capable of it. And if she were honest, she didn't _like _hearing Sophia talk that way so she had ignored it. Thinking that ignoring it would ignore what was behind the message.

_How stupid_, she thought.

"Sophia always went to this place when she went on a ride with Bluebird," she said, knowing that in the end, she didn't know where her daughter had went at all. But it was _something_.

"Do you know where?" Dale asked. She shook her head no.

"But she would have had to start on our trails and gone from there. It's our best shot Dale. And it's all I've got." Dale nodded, grabbing her hand firmly.

"Then let's get Rick over here."

**xXx**

_-You think I __**ever**__ wanted you?-_

_-Boy like you?-_

_-Selfish little fuck who ain't worth a lick?-_

Laughter echoed in his head, making the pounding headache he had worse.

He woke up to a deep ache everywhere, and his first thought was that his ol' man had beat the shit out him. _Again_. Something, somewhere was broken. He could feel it. Ache like that wasn't just a bruise. He could feel it all the way down to his bones.

He shifted, tried to roll onto his side and groaned.

_Rib. _

Then he remembered that he'd taken a goddamn leap off a ledge and fallen nearly twenty feet headfirst into the dirt. No wonder he felt like death warmed over.

He opened his eyes and the orange sunlight filtered through the branches. Sun was already setting now, and soon it would be dark.

"Dammit," he groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position.

_-You done fucked up now boy!-_

He winced, at the pain in his side, at the one taunting him, and he took a steadying breath.

He should a been watching where he was fuckin' going. Now he'd been out for who knew how long, and he was disoriented and hurt.

_-You lost boy? Need ya Mama?-_

"Ain't lost dammit," he ground out, lifting up his shirt, wincing at the mottled purple that colored his skin. Definitely a broken rib. He swallowed thickly, suddenly thirsty.

"Fuck," he muttered. He didn't have nothing on him either. No water, no food, and nothing to help with his wound. He was shit outta luck and he didn't know how to get back to the farm now.

_-Always told ya you was the stupid one.-_

He grit his teeth and stood up quickly, trying to ignore the voice. He screamed once, clutching at his side as he leaned against the tree next to him, panting heavily. He should a done that slower.

He glanced around him, trying to get his bearings, and spat.

"Shit," he breathed. He saw his crossbow lying a few feet away. He hobbled toward it, stretching his legs experimentally as he went. He could feel his leg resisting him, and his ankle was stiff. He thought it was sprained, _hoped _it was. Didn't need that to be broken either. Didn't think he'd be able to walk on it if it was but he didn't know, didn't put it past him.

He bent over slowly, wincing and groaning as he went, and when his fingers closed over the crossbow he straightened up as quickly as he could. He had to get back. He was injured and he didn't know how bad but he had to get back now.

He took off his sleeveless flannel, breathing deep, wrapped it around his middle, pulling it tight. Once it was set best as he could get it, he slung the crossbow over his back again, a slow and painful process.

He leaned against a tree, taking a moment to rest.

_-You was a weak boy too.-_

He growled, feeling the exhaustion hit him, and the pain eat at him. He'd left his old life behind. He didn't need it coming back now.

_-Think you can get rid a me that easily?-_

"Get the fuck away from me," he growled, spinning on his heel, swatting at nothing, pulling at his side. He hissed at the pain.

_-Can't never get rid a me boy.-_

He started walking, thinking he could put it behind him. He had to find his way back, had to get somewhere safe.

_-Ya think they gonna want someone as fucked as you?-_

He tripped, and grabbed the nearest tree for support, panting.

_-Yous hearin' me in ya head boy!-_

He walked faster, as fast as his trembling legs could carry him. He had to get back. He had to get away.

_-Yous the one who did this to me.-_

He shook his head, pushing away the images, the _memories_ that flooded in, tearing at his insides. This was happening. He'd taken a fall and he was gonna let one little slip up do this to him?

He was fuckin' better than that. He was a fuckin' Dixon and they didn't let nothin' keep them down. Only a Dixon could kill a Dixon.

_-They ain't gonna want ya once they find out.-_

He swallowed hard, his heart missing a beat. They wouldn't _ever _find out. He'd make sure a that.

_-No one ever wanted you.-_

He gritted his teeth and kept walking, stumbling. It weren't true. It weren't. He knew that, he knew it and he told himself that every day.

_-Not me.- _

Shut up.

_-Not Merle.- _

Shut. up.

_-Not even ya Ma.-_

"Shut the FUCK UP!"

He stood panting for a moment, his heart racing as the echo of his ol' man's voice faded away and the sun flared in his eyes as it set beyond the trees.

"I'm sorry." He turned so fast he screamed out in pain, clutching at his side as he fell to his knees. He panted hard, feeling his side, his fingers catching at the bone just nearly puncturing his skin. The sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging, and he licked his dry lips.

He looked up and he thought he was dreamin'.

"The _hell _are you doin' out here?" he asked, stunned.

Sophia stood in front of him, pale and scared, clutching at her shirt as she stared at the ground. And when she looked up at him, tears were streaming down her face.

He sighed heavily, feeling his chest tighten.

"Dammit."

**xXx**

"I've gathered up two search parties that both Shane and Sasha will be leading," Rick announced.

Carol stood at the sink, staring out the window. Lori placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"Why Shane," she said, hating the idea that _he _would be out there looking for her little girl, "why aren't you going out there?" She turned around to find Rick standing in the doorway, hand to his walkie-talkie. And then saw the sympathetic look on his face and she nearly smacked it off.

"It's better if I stay here, to coordinate with everyone. Shane does better in the field. Unless you'd rather him here," he asked, brow arching questionably. She shook her head, turning away.

"No," she admitted tiredly, a stray tear falling. "No."

"I should be finding her myself," she muttered.

"Carol," Lori started, "you shouldn't. You just lost your husband." And Carol thought she had never heard a more pathetic excuse in her life. Ed was nothing compared to her Sophia.

"You're tired, exhausted, and if you go out there like that now it won't do any good," Lori said, placing a hand on her arm.

Carol turned and slapped her hand away.

"Carol –"

"She's my _daughter_," Carol spit back vehemently, feeling the last of her reserve die out. She knew Lori was only trying to be helpful but to suggest that she couldn't do _anything _but sit and wait?

"She's all I have _left_ in this world and you want me to sit back and do _nothing_?" Lori was stunned silent.

"Carol we don't think you can't do anything," Rick tried. "We just don't want you to exhaust yourself. It's been a rough couple days." Carol turned her back on them as the tears slipped down her cheeks, hot and shameful.

"We're going to do everything we can to find her. Let us do that for you," he said softly.

She knew they cared about her and Sophia. She _knew _that. But to not be out there herself, looking for her baby, hurt worse than anything Ed had ever done to her.

"I just…" she tried, and failed to finish.

Lori pulled her into a hug and she let her, the warmth of her friend the only physical comfort she'd had in days.

"Let us do this Carol. Hell," he said chuckling, "even Daryl's out there. He's got a helluva chance of running into her as well."

But all Carol could think about was how she was now failing her daughter.

**xXx**

What he wouldn't give for a fuckin' cigarette. He leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. He breathed deep, the pain a dull, steady ache now. Somethin' that should a worried him but that he just couldn't think about. He cracked an eye open, and glanced down.

Sophia stood off to the side, her hands pressed so tight together they were white. _That's_ what he had to worry about.

He didn't know what to do. They had to get back, for the both of them. It was already getting dark and he wasn't sure what would happen when they lost all the light. He didn't know these woods like the ones back home and he was screwed if they didn't get back fast. It was already getting cold and she weren't wearing nothin' but a t-shirt and some shorts.

His side throbbed and he ignored it.

"Fuck," he groaned, and pushed off. Merle would be laughin' at him if he were here. He'd been through worse shit than this. How many times had he been beaten senseless by his ol' man? How many times had he been left to deal with a broken wrist or ankle in the middle a nowhere all cos the ol' man didn't want to help him home. Cos that was _work_.

How many times had his ol' man carved him up, just for _fun_?

He was an asshole. He'd done more things to Daryl than he could count. He had more scars on his body from his ol' man than any hunting accident or brawl with Merle.

"Are you…" he glanced over his shoulder and Sophia cowered, ducking her head. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to scare her but damn if he wasn't tired, and angry at himself, and fuck if it didn't hurt.

"Fine," he growled, and he kept walking, pushing away the pain in his side with each step he took. He had too if he wanted to get back home. _Needed _too. Couldn't wimp out now.

He wasn't the only one he had to worry about and he couldn't let the pain stop him. He'd been through worse, _pushed _through worse. He could sure as hell do it now.

He looked down, catching sight of her blonde head in the quickly fading sunlight and he sighed. He couldn't even imagine what she was goin' through. Course, he almost could. She'd just lost a fuck up for a father and ran off because it was too much to be around, and then she got lost.

He shook his head.

He definitely knew what she goin' through. And he didn't like one fuckin' bit what that brought up inside a him.

"I uh…sorry 'bout yer dad," he murmured, clutching at his side as he continued on, though he didn't so much feel sorry for Peletier as he did Sophia. Girl didn't need to know what it was like to lose somebody that young. Even if Peletier deserved it.

She was silent beside him, and he could just barely see her in the dying light as she swallowed hard and her face pinched. He thought she was gonna cry again, but she didn't. He was surprised by that.

"I…" She stopped walking, and turned to look up at him

"Is it bad that…that I…" she looked desperate, and this time the tears sat heavy in her eyes and he was afraid of what she was going to say. He recognized the look in her face and he knew this little girl was smarter than she looked.

She was a lot more like him than he had thought would be possible.

And then her small hands curled into fists and she ducked her head, but he didn't miss the way her tears fell down her face. "Is it bad that I'm not sad that he's gone?" she asked, her voice choking up on her tears.

He felt his chest tighten.

"Am I a bad person for…" her voice quivered, and in that moment he wanted to run so far that his legs shook, "for being glad that he's gone?" She looked up, seeking out his gaze, and he saw in her eyes a feeling he hadn't wanted to remember. The one he'd thought he'd escaped.

And he knew then that she had known all along just what Carol had been going through. Who knew how many years this little girl had been watching and suffering all by herself and not being able to do _nothing _as her Ma was abused her whole life.

He had never felt so conflicted before - between wanting to run so goddamn far from this little girl who reminded him so much of his own life, and from wanting to tell her that it was all going to be okay now. That her fucked up ol' man was never going to hurt nobody, _ever again_. Not her, not her Ma. _Nobody_.

But he knew, he _still _felt those same conflicting emotions and he knew he couldn't let her go on thinking that she were wrong for thinking she were bad. Because there were no way in hell that she were.

Peletier was the one who was bad. Peletier was the one who'd done wrong by her. Peletier was the one who deserved everything kind a hell and _worse_.

"No," he whispered gruffly. Her eyes grew big and her mouth dropped open. "It don't make ya bad for feelin' free a the person who never made you feel safe," he said quickly, nearly regrettin' saying it but knowing he had too. Because all this time he kept trying to tell himself that. All this time he'd been trying to tell himself that it was okay. That it was _okay_.

But it still wasn't the same. And it never would be.

Her hand grazed over his knuckles, and he jerked back, shocked by her touch.

"I just…" she started, looking ashamed, "you didn't look okay," she whispered, her green eyes so soft and kind. He cleared his throat and stepped back, feeling like he'd crossed a line he wasn't supposed to. He'd said something to her and he shouldn't have. He should a kept his damn mouth shut. Carol wouldn't want him talkin' to her little girl like that. Who the hell was he?

Just a dumb redneck with a fucked up past and a bad person cos a it.

Who was he to tell Sophia _anything_?

"Don't listen to me kid," he ground out harshly, and brushed passed her, feeling a coldness wash over him and trail in his wake. And when he glanced over his shoulder she was staring after him, a quiet understanding in her eyes.

**xXx**

She'd sent everyone home because she couldn't stand seeing them there and she didn't want them all to see her like this either.

As much as she wanted to break down and cry and throw something against the wall, she just wanted to sit on the porch in the swing in silence.

That's what she wanted – _silence_. The whole world seemed to be screaming at her and she couldn't find a damn moment of quiet. Ed calling her a dumb whore, Dale needing help with a horse, Sophia needing help with homework, the horses crying, the truck horn blaring, Allen yelling in her face, Lori and Andrea defending her when she didn't want it.

The sound of the monitor blaring, on and _on_ as if screaming at her, as if her mother were right there telling her to do whatever was _necessary_ to save her husband and _be a good wife_.

She stood up abruptly, grabbing the book at her side and took off down the porch steps. And before she knew it she was running, out of breath, her lungs, her legs burning. But she didn't stop, not until she was at the fire pit where the hands would huddle in the long winter nights to stay warm. Except this time it wasn't lit, and she wasn't walking through three feet of snow.

She knelt down and searched for the lighter that Henry used to stash out here; he never liked to make the run back and get one when they forgot. When her fingers closed over it she sat back on her heels, holding the lighter in one hand and the book in the other, feeling as if her heart were trying to pound its way out of her chest.

"You've abandoned me," she said. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the black binding of the book. "And all you've ever done is show me how to be weak, all you've ever done is let him control me. When I sought comfort, you gave me pain. When I needed love, you gave me suffering. And when I needed help, you were never there."

She placed the book in the middle of the scorched earth, the circle of rocks trapping it inside. She hunched forward again, onto her knees, and wanted to cry but couldn't. She just took hold of the lighter and flicked it open, watching as the flame jumped to light on the first strike.

She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she knew she shouldn't be doing this.

She couldn't _burn the bible_.

There must have been some kind of law against it. Or she would go to hell for it surely.

But she just laughed, harsh in her own ears. She was already going to hell, for every violent thought she had ever had against Ed. For every impure thought she had ever had for another man. For every time she had ever thought about taking her own life.

And _that _was the last straw. How was it okay for her to feel that way and _still _suffer?

She tossed the lighter onto the bible and stood up, watching as the flames slowly took to the fragile pages. It wasn't long before the book was consumed in the orange flames.

This was nothing.

Not compared to everything that Ed had ever done to her. Not to what she had had to suffer at his hands. Not for every moment that her daughter was missing because _of _him.

"_Where were you when I needed you most?_" she whispered, as the tears fell without abandon down her cheeks. She looked up into the darkening sky, as her heart clenched. "What has my faith gotten me but pain?"

There was no answer just as there never had been. She gave a short laugh, and knew she was being childish. But that didn't mean it didn't _not _hurt. She had suffered under the guise of her faith for the entirety of her marriage, of her _life_ and she was supposed to believe that that was okay?

_It wasn't_.

She reached up and unclasped the necklace around her neck and held it delicately in her hand. The cross sat in her palm, and for a moment she hesitated, as the empty feeling on her neck weighed on her.

And then she tossed the cross into the last of the flickering flames of the bible and she only took a moment to watch them both burn before turning away, leaving them both behind along with her faith.

**xXx**

"Do you see that?" she whispered, pointing ahead of them. He'd been checking on a deer trail he'd found but wasn't proving to be useful. He'd been hoping to find a horse trail but nothing was coming up. They must a been too far from the farm for any of them to be around here.

"See what?" he asked, glancing up, pushing himself into a standing position painfully. And when he finally got to his feet Sophia took off.

"Hey!" he shouted after her, taking a quick step but stopping immediately as his side protested painfully. "Dammit," he growled, walking quickly after her.

He could barely make out the direction she had taken off in, when he finally _saw _what she had meant.

"What the hell?" He burst through the clearing of trees and found Sophia standing near a road, glancing back and forth.

"It's the highway!" she announced, a sudden hope in her voice. She turned toward him, rubbing at her arms, warding the cold off. "It's the road around the mountains," she said again, and this time he felt that hope sink a little into his own skin.

This was better than wandering through the woods in the dark, not knowing where the fuck he was going.

He looked down one way, and then the other before turning back to her, that sudden hope fading in the wind.

"You know which way to go?" She turned back to the road, and he watched her face drop, and her shoulders sag.

And she shook her head no.

**xXx**

Carol saw Lincoln sitting by the barn, watching the driveway patiently. And Carol nearly broke into tears as she watched him. She sat next to him, leaning back against the barn, and wrapped an arm around the husky hound.

"She has to come back," she whispered, her voice thick. "She _has _too, Lincoln." She buried her face in his neck and breathed, breathed in the solidarity of him at her side. She had to believe that these people, _her friends_, would bring Sophia back to her.

"But Rick," Lori said exasperatedly. Carol lifted her head and held her breath. She suddenly heard Lori and Rick shuffling inside the barn, just around the corner. How had she not known they were in there?

"What do we do if she _isn't _found?" Lori asked desperately. Rick sighed. Carol felt her heart quicken, and she tried to tamp down her breathing.

"We're doing everything we can to find her Lori. I've got Shane and Sasha out with two groups, and Dale says that Daryl's out there right now." Carol sucked in a quick breath, clapping a hand over her mouth to stop it. She had forgotten that Daryl was out there.

Dale had told her earlier that Daryl had run off for some reason and hadn't been back since. She hadn't been concerned about it because, well, he wasn't important right now. But if he _was _out there?

She closed her eyes at the spark of hope that lit inside her.

He was one more person, one more _chance_ that her daughter would be found.

"But Daryl's not looking for Sophia. Hell, he doesn't even know she's _missing_," Lori said exasperatedly. Carol heard Rick take a deep breath. And Carol wondered why they were out here, talking in her barn, secretly. Why were they trying to keep this from her?

Did they think she was weak? Did they think they had to keep this from her? Just because she'd lost Ed didn't mean she couldn't handle whatever they had to say.

She wasn't _weak_.

"I know that," he said forcefully, and Carol leaned across Lincoln to look around the doors and saw Rick draw a hand down his face tiredly.

"But at least he's _out _there Lori. At least if he comes across her, he can bring her back. Something tells me he'll have better luck than we will even without knowing." Lori shook her head, her expression pained.

"I can't stand seeing Carol go through this. She just went through Ed, and now Sophia's gone too? She has to be found Rick. You have to find her," she said, staring at him pleadingly.

Rick took a step forward, and rubbed her arm comfortingly as he reached up to sweep back her hair from her face. She leaned into his touch as he caressed her face.

"I know," he murmured, kissing her forehead as he wrapped her into a hug.

Carol looked away, a pain in her chest, wrapping her arms around herself.

Carol had never had what Lori and Rick did. _Never_. She had never known any of that comfort before.

Her only comfort now was that she wouldn't have to _suffer _anymore. Her only comfort was that the one person who had ever done her harm, would never be able to again.

Who would ever love her now? Who would ever think she was worth loving now, after all that she had been through and put herself through?

She _was _weak, she was pitiful. She didn't deserve to be loved. Not like this.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered, burying her face against Lincoln.

And it didn't. Not as long as Sophia came back, safe and sound.

**xXx**

They kept walking until even _his _legs were beginning to feel it, and then they walked some more. He knew the little girl wouldn't be able to keep going at this rate but he knew they couldn't stop either. He had to get her home. He wasn't sure how far they had to go because he wasn't familiar with the area. But he was pretty sure they had a ways to go. He hadn't realized how far they'd gotten lost.

He could hear Merle laughing at him now. Lost like a damn idiot. He was a Dixon for fucks sake. He'd been born and raised in the woods, beneath the mountains. He'd been trackin' since the day he could walk, huntin' since the day he could carry a gun, killin' since he could remember. He was born in blood, raised in blood, beaten in blood, and tamed under blood.

_This_ was what he knew best.

Yet here he was, unable to get himself back the way he'd come.

He didn't know if it was cos the sun was different here, or if it was the altitude difference. Something had him off balance and he couldn't quite place it.

Or it was _her_.

But he couldn't do that, couldn't blame the girl. He'd never do that, cos there weren't nothin' to do but deal with it. She was here and he had to get her home. That's just what it was.

He wasn't gonna be like his ol' man and blame the ones who couldn't fight back. Not when he could help her.

"I'm tired," she said quietly, stopping next to him. He looked down, staring at the top of her head as she stared at the ground, her legs trembling violently.

He didn't know what to do. They'd walked a long fuckin' way for them to just stop now, but he knew she had to a been tired. He couldn't blame her for that. Girl had pushed a long way for him and what was he supposed to do?

Yell at her to keep going? Yell at her for not going all the way?

He ran a hand over his face, and breathed a heavy sigh.

He couldn't do that. His ol' man had done a lot a things to him to get him to do anything, and yellin' was the least of it, but he knew he never liked to be yelled at. And he knew her ol' man had yelled more than she needed to hear.

He wouldn't do that to her. He would _never_ do that to her.

But it was just his luck that there hadn't been one single car to come down this road. Just his Dixon fuckin' luck. He should a kept to the woods and the sparse trail he'd had even if the darkness had been comin'.

And then he felt her hand along his arm, gentle, unexpected, and he looked down. She looked up at him with those big green eyes a hers, just like her Ma's and the anxiety ballooned in his chest.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her fingers curling around his wrist and he swallowed hard, "I – I can keep going. I didn't mean it. I'm okay," she stuttered.

He closed his eyes tight against the familiarity of the tone of her voice as his hands fisted at his sides. His nails bit into the skin of his palm as years and years of abuse came barreling into him, striking home.

She was _afraid _he was going to be mad at her. And he couldn't blame her. How many times had he feared his ol' man when he'd done something to piss him? How many times had that fear been justified?

"Ain't nothing kid," he said gruffly, slowly uncurling his fists and staring into the darkness ahead of them. He reached up, fingers curling over his shoulder, finding the lumpy flesh of his back. The constant reminder of what he had left behind, of who he was and what he had become.

She was right to be afraid.

"We gotta keep movin'," he said, gritting his teeth and walking ahead.

He was who he was. He'd been made this way.

He looked back, makin' sure she was followin', hating the way she curled her arms around herself in the cold. Hating the way she trudged along wearily and he couldn't do nothing about it.

"Gotta keep goin'," he muttered, more to himself this time.

He'd get Sophia home, back to her Ma.

Cos that's who he was too.

**xXx**

They still held to the hope that Sophia would come back safe and sound. Rick waited patiently in the kitchen with Dale, talking softly to each other. Lori sat with them, drinking coffee, offering Carol a cup every time they made eye-contact.

But they always said words of comfort in front of her -

_They'll find her, don't worry._

_It's just a matter of time._

_Sophia's a smart girl._

- when she really felt like they had just as little hope as she did. And that made her die a little more inside. Because somewhere deep inside of herself, it felt like Sophia was never coming back. It felt has if she had lost everything. It felt as if _this _was her punishment.

And if that was the case, then she wasn't sure she wanted to go on.

A life without Sophia wasn't a life at all.

"If she doesn't come back," she said rubbing Lincoln's head slowly, "then…" and she trailed off, staring into his big brown eyes. If Sophia didn't come back, then nothing else mattered. If Sophia was never found again, then she had no reason to live.

Lincoln moaned, nudging her with his nose as if he could sense her decision.

"Then it doesn't matter," she whispered.

**xXx**

"Dammit," he murmured, panting heavily. It was cold, and he was tired, and it was too dark. "How the hell did we end up so fuckin' far?" he panted between gasps. It didn't seem possible that they could keep walking and still not see anything in sight.

"It's because of the mountains," Sophia said, walking up next to him.

He glanced down at her, skeptical. She was breathing heavy, her shoulders heaving with each breath. He realized they must have been walking, but it had to be slow going. Maybe that was why they didn't seem to be making any progress.

"The roads twist," she said softly, looking up at the sky as the stars blinked back. "And the mountains get so dark that you think you're going somewhere but you're not. You've got so far to go."

Daryl groaned, suddenly remembering why he hated mountains and let his head hang back, staring up at the midnight sky.

He could remember the last night he and Merle had sat beneath a black sky just like this one, a fire at their feet and a bottle of whiskey to warm their bellies. That was the last decent memory he had of the both of them. The last one he _cared _to remember.

And then he felt something soft and warm slip into his hand and he froze. She hesitated a moment, as her hand wrapped around his palm, and he didn't know where her trembling began and his ended. Goosebumps littered his arm and he swallowed hard. He could remember the last time he'd held someone's hand before, and his Ma didn't count for much.

He shifted his gaze from the sky to her face, and he saw the anxiety in her eyes, felt like he wanted to run again. How the hell was this one little girl making him feel like he was incapable of doing nothing. Why did it feel like knew exactly what he was feeling?

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and his crossbow across his chest again, trying to ignore the way his palm itched.

He didn't know these mountains, or the darkness that surrounded them. He didn't like that, wished in that moment for any kind a Georgia. That was what he knew best.

He shook his head once, jaw clenching at the thought. This was home now. That was the choice he'd made when he'd come here.

He looked down at her face, ghostly in the dark, gazing up at him expectantly.

She was a part of his life now. Somethin' he could protect. And she was right here in front of him; real, solid in his grasp, and she needed him. Not like the ghosts that were haunting him, the things he couldn't see if they were real or not.

He clutched at the strap, holding onto that the familiar weight on his back. It gave him strength, made him feel in control. Didn't matter where he was. Didn't matter how bad he hurt. He was the best damn tracker no matter what.

He grunted, and tugged her along.

**xXx**

The sun had already long disappeared beyond the mountains, the cold had set in and if her heart hadn't been aching, it would have been beautiful. Instead, the cold pit in her stomach grew deeper and deeper as the darkness grew.

The light was gone and Sophia still wasn't home. The chance of her daughter finding her way home now was gone. Sophia was a smart girl but she couldn't navigate in the dark, alone and probably afraid.

Her throat closed up, and she pulled Lincoln to her side, burying her face against his neck. Lincoln sat stoic as ever, watching the edge of the forest for Sophia's return.

"What will I do Lincoln?" she murmured, running her fingers through his fur. Her eyes burned, and her throat closed up.

"I can't lose her too," she cried softly. Lincoln turned his head toward her and licked her arm, resting his chin on her shoulder, sighing heavily.

She could hear the others moving in the house, their voices carrying softly through the window.

She had told them they could go home, but they had insisted on staying. Lori hadn't wanted to leave her side, and Carol knew it was because whatever happened she suspected it wouldn't end in her favor. Rick stayed for Lori and to keep Carol informed. But nothing good ever came. _Nothing_ ever came.

And Dale just watched. He sat and he watched, and she could tell by his looks that he was feeling guilty. She didn't want him too, but she didn't have the will to tell him not too either.

She just wanted to be alone, and they wouldn't even let her have that.

And what was she supposed to do? They wouldn't go home, not even at her insistence, and she didn't have it in her to fight them. So they stayed.

She did, however, fight them to go to the porch to be alone.

She needed to be alone with her thoughts.

It was quiet. The spotlight on the barn lit up the yard several feet like a halo of golden light in the dark. But it didn't stretch far enough for her to feel comforted. It didn't stretch far enough to bring her baby home.

And the longer she sat there, the more it became apparent that Sophia was _never _coming back. Her daughter was gone. Forever.

And it was her fault.

"Just like everything else," she murmured as the tears slipped down her cheeks.

**xXx**

"Daryl," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she tugged at his hand. He couldn't believe she'd said his name. The entire time they'd walked, and walked, and _walked _and she'd not said it once and now?

"Look," she pointed off into the darkness ahead of them, the road twisting in front of them, eerily quiet.

But for a single, distinct sound.

"_Daryl_," she said more urgently, but still so quiet, as if she said it any louder she might spook what was before them.

And he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe what he was seein'. And if he hadn't been lookin' at it with his own two eyes, he'd a never believed it.

"I don't fuckin' believe it," he whispered as Sophia's hand tightened in his.

And they stood there, stunned.

**xXx**

She walked up the steps, her feet heavy when Lincoln howled, loud and deep, penetrating through Carol's heart. She stopped mid-step and turned, knowing immediately that something was wrong.

She watched as Lincoln took off, his heavy frame bouncing down the road and disappearing into the darkness as she lost sight of him.

She ran down the steps and waited, breathing heavy, as her heart pounded in her chest. The silence ate at her, destroying her nerves. She stared into the darkness beyond the halo of light, her nerves fraying at the edges.

And then Lincoln started howling; short, clipped baying howls of excitement that she couldn't determine. It sent her heart into her throat and she didn't know what to do.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, still listening to Lincoln's howls and then something came through the darkness, stepping into the light.

"Mom!"

And a sob ripped through her and she was running.

"Sophia!" And then Sophia was there, jogging up the dirt road, tired and disheveled but smiling as Lincoln bounced around her heels.

And then she launched herself into Carol's arms and they collided with each other and Carol fell to her knees, pulling Sophia so _close_.

"Oh baby," she muttered, running her hands along her back, the relief of her baby against her so profound she could scarcely breathe. The pounding of her heart fluttering hard against her own was the most glorious thing ever and if she died right then, it wouldn't even matter.

Because Sophia was _safe_.

"Mom, I'm okay," Sophia whispered into her ear, hugging her back. Carol couldn't stop the tears as they streamed down her face.

"Mom," she said again, pulling away gently. Carol didn't want to let go, but did so reluctantly. She ran her hands across Sophia arms, through her hair, across her face. She had thought her daughter dead, and now, she was here.

She had never seen anything more beautiful than this.

"Mom, you won't believe it," Sophia said, smiling wide, and looking behind her.

"Sweetie, how – how did you get back?" Sophia pulled on her shirt sleeve, and turned around.

And then she heard it, the most familiar sound to her, as familiar as Sophia's voice. As familiar as breathing.

"_Him_," Sophia said, and Carol took her hand and stood up, unsure. It felt like she couldn't breathe her heart was pounding was so fast. Her eyes sought out the sound, and she couldn't believe what she was hearing. It couldn't have been real.

It wasn't until he walked into the edge of the faint light, awkward and disheveled and exhausted, staring in irritated confusion between her and Sophia that she finally _saw_.

And then she fell to the ground, stunned.

"Mom?" She gripped Sophia's hand tight, because this couldn't be real. Daryl stood there, panting, clutching at his side, looking like the walking dead.

But it wasn't him that had her heart in her throat.

It was what he guided next to him.

"It can't be," she murmured.

_It couldn't_. In her world, these things didn't happen. In her _life_ nothing good ever happened to her. God had been taking things away from her since the day she had let Ed into her life, since _before_. Why should He change that now that she had pushed Ed out of it?

"Mom?" Sophia asked once more, squeezing her hand back and Carol looked up into her eyes.

"Is it really…" she was unable to finish asking, but Sophia just nodded. And then Daryl was there, standing above her, and the look on his face was one of pure exhaustion and relief. And as much as she wanted to know how he had done it, she couldn't even think about it.

All she could see was _him_ as she reached up, her hand shaking and her fingers gently touched his nose.

"Sky," she breathed. And she watched as Daryl didn't even need to hold the halter still hanging around his neck as he collapsed before her knees.

"Oh Sky," she cried out softly, as she reached out to rub his face gently, as he lay over her knees. And when her hands moved delicately over his cheek and his neck, her fingers twining in his tangled mane did he sigh wearily and close his eyes.

Her eyes welled up as she took in the sight of her beautiful boy, exhausted, battered and lying before her. She had never thought she would see him again.

She leaned over him, touching her forehead to his, closing her eyes and breathed deep, listening to each haggard breath that Sky took.

He was alive.

He was_ alive_ and he was _here_.

And then she pulled Sophia against her side, crushing her close and it didn't matter that she was crying or that she had just killed her husband, or that she would suffer eternity in hell for all of her sins.

Her daughter was alive.

Sky had come back to her.

Her life was her own.

And she only had one thing to thank for that.

She reached up and took hold of Daryl's hand hanging in the space between them, calloused and scarred in her own, so very different than anything she had ever known before but so much more important now than ever before. And even when he flinched, even when she felt him pull away, she didn't let go.

_She didn't let go_.

* * *

**A/N**: This had a better ending, yes?! I had Sky's return planned since the beginning and I have been _dying _for it to come about. I'm going to try for something different in the next chapter.

And, as forever and always, _thank you so much for reading_. I would be nothing without you all.


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